


As the Shadow Falls

by Tea_For_One_Please



Series: A New Fight [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Sequel, just the one though, there's a warning in the chapter where it happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25452304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_For_One_Please/pseuds/Tea_For_One_Please
Summary: In the midst of a daring escape from Mykapo, Will Byers discovered something about himself he never realised - that he could feel the Force like the Jedi of old. He also happened to discover that he had feelings for a certain young Rebel pilot, by the name of Mike Wheeler.One year on, he and Mike are attempting to pursue a relationship, whilst juggling Jedi training, family reunions, and the evacuation of a Rebel base - and as if their lives weren't complicated enough, they're being hunted by a malevolent Inquisitor, intent on destroying the remnants of the old Jedi Order.A/N: The Character Death occurs in the third chapter; for anyone who wants to follow the story but does not wish to engage with such content, a plot summary for that chapter is included in the notes :)
Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Series: A New Fight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827769
Comments: 67
Kudos: 37





	1. VII

_The Force is with me._

Will sat, motionless, on the cool flagstones of the temple’s grand chamber, allowing himself to become part of the atmosphere around him. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, picturing what was around him, although he could not see it. In this moment, he was not simply Will Byers. He was the Force – he was the rocks upon which he sat, the stale air he breathed, he was also El, pacing slowly, silently around the cave.

_The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force._

He sensed rapid motion behind him, and stretched out a hand, willing the wooden stick across the chamber to fly through the air into his grip. With his other hand, he pushed down on the floor, allowing himself to turn in a half circle, positioning himself on one knee, in the perfect position to twist the stick in his hand to block the blow of El’s own rod bearing down on him.

_I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me._

He centred himself, and the part of the Force that was Will sprang upwards from his bended knee, using the momentum to push back El’s stick and going for an attack of his own to her side. With one flick of her wrist, she parried the blow and delivered one of her own, swiping at his knees. He jumped into the air, allowing the Force to carry him up and over her head. He fell into a roll to soften his landing, swiping twice at her as he rose to his feet again.

She parried both with ease, and their makeshift blades locked together. Will was just calculating his next move when El punched him hard in the diaphragm; he fell backwards with a cry of pain, winded. With one swift swipe, she knocked the stick from his hand and held her own an inch from his neck.

“And congratulations,” she said, her voice cold and disapproving. “You’re dead.”

“That was hardly fair,” he said through a dry cough.

“Inquisitors don’t play fair,” she said, casting her stick aside in frustration. “Neither do bounty hunters. Why can’t you understand this? Sure, I could follow the rules I tell you exactly, and let you win. Because you would win, Will, you’re a far more natural swordsman than I am. Before you hesitated, you were on track to beat me.”

“Well then,” he grunted as he hauled himself to his feet.

“But no other opponent is going to go easy on you, Will!” El pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let’s drill it again.” He nodded and stepped back, stretching out an arm and catching the stick as it jumped into his hand. “Ready position, form five.” He frowned, recalling, before holding the stick above his head with both hands, angling it away from himself, bending his knees slightly. “Good. Attack.”

“No,” he said, and she nodded approvingly.

“Good.” Without further comment, she charged towards him, lunging towards his heart with pinpoint accuracy. He allowed the Force to speak to him, commanding his actions, and instead of parrying, stepped to one side. She stumbled, and he used his chance to whirl his stick towards her wrists with a satisfying _thwack_. El let out a cry of surprise and wrung her hand, shaking out the sting.

“Sorry,” he said, and she shook her head.

“No, don’t apologise – that was good.” She nodded approvingly. “If you can avoid combat, it’s always better.” She flexed her fingers, checking for early signs of bruising.

“Are you alright?” he asked anxiously. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I think I’m good,” she said, and suddenly brought a blow down towards his head. He hastily lifted his stick in a high block to counter the attack, and she swiped at his side, hitting him hard on the hip. “But you won’t always have the advantage of knowing when someone’s going to attack.”

“Yeah, okay,” he grumbled. She stretched out a hand, and a lightsaber leapt across the room – the one Will had stolen from the Inquisitor. She threw it to him, and he caught it begrudgingly. “I still don’t see why I have to use this one.”

She didn’t answer, but simply ignited one of her own blades, and bared the saber at him, the energy beam casting aquamarine light across the stone walls of the chamber. He sighed and ignited the Tenth Sister’s former weapon, unable to tear his eyes away from its own bright red glow, taunting him. He thought he heard a whisper in his mind. _You’ll never be a_ real _Jedi…_

“Focus,” she said quietly, and he looked up at her instead. He lifted the saber hilt to his ear, holding an arm out in front of his face, creating a perfect line between his eyes and the tip of El’s lightsaber.

“I’m ready.”

“We’ll see,” she said, gripping her own hilt a little more tightly, swinging her blade back as she leapt forward. Blue and red energy hissed as they collided, and Will began to step slowly backwards, keeping his guard up and never moving his blade an inch more than required to block El’s brutal onslaught of blows and lunges.

He could feel himself tiring, but he knew why her teaching was so aggressive. El had told him why once, right at the start of their training.

“When I was younger, a Jedi’s training was focused on attuning oneself with the Force,” she had said. “Aggression was discouraged, forbidden even. Now, though,” she’d said with a wistful look in her eyes, “these are dark times. We do what we must to survive, and the Inquisitors fight aggressively. So we have to learn to do the same.”

Now, though, he simply blocked her relentless attacks, parrying occasionally to stagger her, watching her tire herself out, absorbing the energy she infused into each strike. Finally, he caught her in a blade-lock, before twisting his hands around and flipping the saber out of her hand. The blade shrank away in mid-air, and the hilt clattered on the smooth stone floor.

Feeling more than a little satisfied, he held the scarlet blade to El’s neck and smiled at her; so caught up in his victory that he failed to notice her summon her lightsaber back to her hand, until he felt the hilt pressing into his stomach.

“And congratulations,” she said, ducking under his blade and standing up. “You’re dead.”

“That’s cheating,” he complained, deactivating the saber and throwing it back to her.

“You think the Inquisitors won’t cheat, Will?” she said in disbelief.

“Whatever,” he said, pulling on his poncho in a huff.

“I think we’re done for today,” she said, reading his expression and pursing her lips. “And you looked all too comfortable fighting with that thing, by the way,” she called after him.

“You’d get used to fighting with anything after a _year_!” he shouted back.

As he wandered back up the mountain, he saw a large transport emerge from the hangar, and looked wistfully up at it as it left. He had left Dantooine less than a dozen times in the last standard year, as El had wanted his training to be almost full-time. It had let to more than one clash between her and the recently-promoted General Hopper, on account of Hopper wanting to induct Will into Green Squadron, owing to his remarkable skills in a starfighter. El, however, wanted him to focus on his training, claiming that Alliance heroics would be there waiting for him when his instruction was a little more complete.

His temper evened slightly when he saw Mike, who opened his arms as Will approached. Will collapsed against him and let out a guttural groan into his shoulder, and Mike chuckled.

“Rough morning?”

“You can say that again,” Will sighed. “How are things up here?”

“Oh, they’re wonderful,” Mike said, with an icy glint to his eyes that suggested quite the opposite. “Max had an interesting idea that we could store stuff in our cabins, instead of, you know, the damn cargo hold.” Daggers flew between Mike and Max as they passed her in the hold. Only once their cabin door was closed did Mike ask, “So what happened with El?”

“Okay,” Will said, hopping up onto the top bunk and flopping dramatically back against the pillow.

Curiously, these days, the lower bunk always seemed to be filled with some sort of junk. This was, most likely, due to the fact that neither of the cabin’s occupants had been using it. Although at the moment, the entire room was a dreadful mess, thanks to Max’s bold initiative.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love having El as my teacher. She’s patient, she’s clever, she tells me what I’m doing wrong, and how to fix it. Mostly.” Mike climbed up with him and lay down beside him, pressing his palm against Will’s and threading their hands together.

“But?” Mike prompted, and Will sighed.

“She’s so critical, and I know she doesn’t trust me.”

“Of course she trusts you!” Mike tuts.

“Oh, really?” Will says, with an incredulous laugh. “It’s been almost a whole year since I started my training, and she _still_ won’t let me build my own lightsaber. You realise I’m still practising with either a stick, or the one I took from that Inquisitor?”

“Yikes,” said Mike with a grimace.

“I know! And she never lets me use hers. Do you realise how disheartening it is to be the one who always has to be the ‘bad guy’?” Will made air quotes with his free hand.

“Maybe you just need to tell her this stuff,” Mike suggested gently. Will turned his head and looked at him with amusement.

“Sure. Just like you’ve obviously told Max that it’s dumb not to use the cargo hold to hold cargo?”

“I shall overlook that,” Mike said in a lofty voice, and Will giggled, before leaning in for a quick kiss. Mike raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you suggesting what I think..?”

“Of course,” Will said with a suggestive smile.

Mike grinned and pushed Will playfully back by his shoulders, making him laugh as his back hit the mattress. Will sighed as Mike bore down on him, letting out a soft sigh as their lips met, falling into their familiar, comforting rhythm.

Will had known no real home since the age of fifteen, when he had joined the Imperial Academy. At that moment, he had ceased to live on Mykapo, and the Empire had become his ‘home’, not that it had ever felt like it. It was a ruthlessly hierarchal system: friendships more intimate than loyal camaraderie were severely frowned upon, and the confines of rank were insurmountable. Before joining the Rebellion, Will had never truly realised how lonely he was. It was hard to believe it had been nearly a whole year since he’d sat atop this ship with Mike and had his first genuine conversation with another human being in eight years.

And yet, as he arched his back reaching up to Mike’s lips, desperate for his touch, it felt like almost no time at all.

“I should go,” Mike was murmuring, making no attempt to leave, choosing instead to fumble with the buttons on Will’s loose linen shirt.

“Yes, of course,” Will mumbled against Mike’s lips. “We do have a galaxy to save.”

“Eh, the galaxy can wait,” Mike said with a mischievous smile, peppering Will’s jaw with gentle kisses.

“It’s been nineteen years, what’s another hour?” Will a lock of Mike’s hair around his fingers, and a smile broke across Mike’s face.

“A whole hour? That’s optimistic.”

“Shut up,” Will grinned.

“Hey, do you still have your dress uniform from the Academy?”

Will pushed him off momentarily, and shot him an amused look. “Are you serious?”

Mike blushed. “Partly.”

“Idiot,” Will said with a fond chuckle, before slipping a hand around his neck and pulling him back down to kiss him again.

A sharp, sudden rapping on the door shattered their peace, and Will let out the strains of a frustrated sigh.

“Ignore it,” Mike said indistinctly, his words muffled by Will’s lips. The knocking came again, so Mike pulled himself away from Will and snapped, “ _What?_ ”

“Hopper’s asking for you,” Max called.

“Tell him I’m busy!”

“I did! He said he didn’t much care!”

Mike hung his head and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’ll be about the evacuation.”

“Go on,” Will said gloomily. “Nothing’s helped by Hopper being mad at you.”

Will offered him a sad smile as Mike kissed him goodbye, leaving him to change his clothes in the dark cabin. He was obviously disappointed that Mike had to go, but he was more than a little relieved to be leaving Dantooine, if not only for the fact that it would make a change to leave the planet’s surface for a while.

It had recently been decided that the Alliance’s entire forces should congregate in one place, rather than being spread across multiple locations. This process had started a couple of years prior, with the official formation of the Rebel Alliance, but the leading senators who supported them believed that the conflict with the Empire was starting to come to a head, and that it would be prudent to have a powerful, united attack force should the need arise.

With this in mind, the base on Dantooine was being packed up and shipped to one of the moons of the gas giant Yavin, where the Alliance’s primary base had been established. Mike, commended for his successful rescue attempt of a rebel cell on Mykapo, had been instrumental in organising the evacuation. Although this was a big step towards promotion, it had meant that lately, he and Will were trying to piece fragments of time together, even more than usual.

Will sighed as he climbed down from the bunk and wriggled out of his underwear, kicking it under the chair to deal with later. He found some fresh clothes, as the ones he’d changed out of were smelling, well, a little ripe. In truth, he’d have killed for a shower, but with so many people in and out of the _Ebony Hawk_ , it made it impossible to do so with any privacy. Instead, he retrieved the canteen of water Mike kept by their bunk, and tipped it over himself. It wasn’t great, but it dealt with the surface-level dust and sweat that was making him feel more than a little bit unpleasant. He dried himself off, then used the towel to mop up the water that had dripped onto the floor, before pulling on the clean clothes he had found.

In the year or so since joining the Rebel Alliance, he had more or less retained the same style of clothing, with the exception of the standard-issue flight suit he had to wear when piloting his A-wing. The only difference was that he had started wearing ponchos instead of a flight vest, ignoring Dustin’s claims that he looked like a travelling salesman selling spice on the side. In truth, they were warm, comfortable, loose enough to train in, and could easily conceal a lightsaber. _Or, they would, if El would ever let me build one,_ he thought moodily.

Now, he pulled on his favourite – forest-green with black and white trim. Mike had gifted it to him a few weeks ago, and Will loved it. He tugged it over his head, loosely knotting a piece of leather cord around it, to keep it from flapping in the wind.

“Put those in the common room, they’ll need them in-flight!” As he emerged into the hallway, he nearly collided with his mother, who was carrying two large crates and shouting over her shoulder. “Gosh, Will! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry,” Will said, reaching for the top crate. “Here, let me help.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” she said, gesturing towards the cockpit. “Mike wants those in the underfloor storage.” Will twitched his head, and the grate flipped open, allowing him to lower the crate into the floor cavity. Joyce passed hers down to him, and he stowed it neatly alongside before pulling the grate back over the compartment again.

“Are we nearly ready?” he asked, and she nodded slowly.

“I think so,” she said. “Are you?”

The question threw him a little. “Am I… what, ready?”

She hummed an affirmative and sat down in one of the passenger chairs, gesturing to the one opposite her. “You’ve been here a while now. Are you ready to leave it?”

“Are you kidding?” he said with a laugh. “I can’t wait to get off this rock. It’s like all I ever see these days is the inside of the temple. I can barely even remember what Hopper looks like.”

She smiled at the jest, but clearly sensed he wasn’t telling her something. “What’s wrong with your training?”

“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly. Joyce raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. “It’ll sound childish.”

“Well, you are my child,” she said mischievously, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. I guess… Well, El won’t let me build a lightsaber, and I just don’t feel like she believes I can really do this.”

“Of course she believes in you; we all do.”

“I know that,” he said, struggling to make her understand. “It just feels like she’s trying to protect me, when I know I can take care of myself.”

His mother nodded and took a deep breath. “Will, it’s time I told you something I should have told you long ago.” He looked curiously at her, wondering where this was going. “It’s about Jonathan.” Will’s heart skipped a beat.

“He died on Lothal. What’s to tell?”

“As you know, he joined the Academy a few years before you,” Joyce said, twisting her hands nervously together. “He trained for a few years, but one of the spies in my resistance group said that high command was starting to suspect him of what they called a ‘treasonous outlook’.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

“They thought he was about to defect,” she explained, “and his battalion was deployed to Lothal, where his transport was shot down.”

“By a rebel cell, yeah, I know.”

“No.” The word was short and quiet, but Will heard it distinctly.

“No?”

“That’s what the Empire claimed – there was a rebel group at the time who frequently visited Lothal, but they weren’t there at that point.”

“So the Empire shot them down?”

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that they believe an ounce of fuel can poison a whole pond,” she said darkly.

“Why are you telling me this?” Will demanded, standing suddenly and starting to pace the cockpit. “And how do you know, anyway?”

“He sent me a transmission,” she said, her dark eyes searching him, pleading for him to understand. “He said they’d been set up, and that he never really believed in the Empire.” She gnawed nervously on the edge of her thumbnail.

“What, before they crashed?” Will’s head was fuzzy.

She shook her head. “After. Will… Jonathan’s _alive_.”

Will had to sit down, or he knew he would pass out. “What… why didn’t he come home?”

“I suppose he thought they’d come looking for him. And they did,” she went on sadly. “Thankfully I’d destroyed the data-disc with his transmission, and they went away.”

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” she said simply, shrugging and raising her hands. “I didn’t hear from him after that. I’m sorry.”

Will’s breathing was laboured, and he was struggling to form a coherent thought. “Why are you telling me now?”

“You said just then that you were tired of El trying to protect you,” she said. “I guess I’m just sorry if I’ve done the same.” She stood up and brushed her hands on her jacket. Will seized his moment and wrapped his arms around her, suddenly immensely grateful for her.

“Thanks,” he mumbled into her hair, before pulling away and looking seriously at her. “He’s out there somewhere, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I hope so.”

“We’ll find him.” Will felt suddenly confident, and hopeful for the first time in a while. “The Rebellion is bringing people together from all over the place. We’ll find him, and bring him back – I’m sure of it.”

* * *

Mike paced General Hopper’s office, waiting anxiously for news. He didn’t like all this waiting around, and thoroughly disagreed with the Council’s decision of how to move the base. The leading senators and generals had agreed that the safest course of action was to evacuate the base a few ships at a time; this way, the Empire’s attention would not be drawn to a significant increase in activity over Dantooine.

Mike, however, was of the opinion that the Empire would be more inclined to investigate daily transports leaving a sparsely-populated system over the course of a few weeks, as this would still be a large increase in traffic. This meant that if the Empire did come to poke its nose in, the assembled fleet would be much smaller and less well-equipped, as many had already left for Yavin IV. Mike had tried to make this point to Hopper, but his comments had fallen on deaf ears, as usual.

If he was honest – which he generally tried to be – Mike was growing increasingly frustrated with the rebel leadership. More and more, he felt as though it was devolving into an unproductive mass of squabbling rich senators, all with totally opposing views, turning the Alliance Council into a smaller version of the Imperial Senate, with which they were ironically so dissatisfied.

He had no time for senators, as a matter of principle. Some were probably reasonable people, he supposed, but he couldn’t help but question that if these people really wanted to do some good in the galaxy, they’d turn their efforts to something other than politics. After all, surely they were aware of the sheer superfluity of the Senate these days? From what he’d read, even during the Clone Wars, the Senate’s bureaucratic corruption was thinly veiled by the outwardly democratic appearance of the Republic. Nowadays, though, the Emperor’s singular influence was absolute, and the concept of senators gathering and voting on issues was, as far as Mike could tell, entirely obsolete.

He just couldn’t understand how people so easily bought the lie that everything was functioning as it should. Everywhere he’d travelled, for every individual who had sheltered him and his team, silently opposing the Empire’s rule, there had been almost as many praising the benevolence of the Emperor and his regime. He could understand how it was easier for the young to be convinced of this nonsense, as they had known no different. But even to him, who fell into that category, it seemed illogical that anyone who had lived before the war could possibly think this was a better way of life.

What disturbed Mike more than anything on their travels was the Empire’s sheer omnipresence. There was at least one star destroyer stationed at almost every planet in the Empire, and even over certain planets that didn’t come under its rule. There had been whispers for some time that Jedha had fallen under Imperial occupation, and El had reported through an old acquaintance that the Empire had taken Ilum, which was well into the Unknown Regions. Wherever they went, it always chilled Mike’s blood to see the looming presence of a star destroyer when they dropped out of hyperspace.

Yet here they were, gradually creeping out of their base like a womp rat checking for predators as it crawled out of its hole. Needless to say, the idea made Mike very uncomfortable, and the fact that Hopper had not yet arrived for their meeting was not helping his anxiety.

Finally, the door opened and Hopper entered, nodding at Mike, who dutifully saluted.

“General,” Mike said as a begrudging display of respect.

“Wheeler,” Hopper replied, easing himself into his desk chair and leaning back with a sigh. “I have news. If your crew is ready, you’ll be the next flight out.”

Mike stuttered in surprise. “Oh, uh – really?”

“Yes, really – your ship, along with a starfighter squadron accompanying you.” Hopper twiddled a pen in his hand and offered Mike something vaguely resembling a smile. “I know you weren’t onboard with this particular evacuation plan, but I want to thank you for your co-operation. In fact, I’m loathed to admit that I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Mike was taken aback by this peculiar sentimental demonstration. “Well… acknowledged, sir. Thank you.”

“And the Council has seen fit to reward you as such,” Hopper said, looking slightly more put out than before. “…commander.”

It took a moment for this to sink in. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me right,” Hopper said, and he was definitely smiling now; it was unnerving. “You’re being promoted. It’ll be made official once you’ve arrived at home base, but I thought I’d tell you now.”

“I… don’t know what to say, General – thank you,” Mike said, utterly floored by this announcement. Hopper held up his hands and stood up.

“Say nothing, before I change my mind. Now be off with you. Make sure your ship’s ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Mike said, still more than a little starstruck. He stood up straight and offered Hopper the sincerest salute of his life.

As he exited the office, he couldn’t help clenching his fists and wiggling a little victory dance on his way back to the _Ebony Hawk_. Being a captain was fun – he still remembered the first time he’d jabbed a finger into Dustin’s chest and told him to cut it out because _he was the captain_ – but captains were ten a credit, really. Starfighters excluded, wherever there was a ship, there was undoubtedly a captain. And the Rebellion had a lot of ships.

But being a commander was different: this probably meant that he would now take charge of not only the _Ebony Hawk_ , but also a starfighter squadron. It meant he could, if the mood struck him, sit in on the Council’s meetings. It permitted him to conduct solo missions without the approval of the Council.

Best of all, though, it meant he could eventually have his own dormitory at the base on Yavin IV; it wouldn’t be huge, obviously, but done were the days of trying to squeeze him and Will into a cabin bunk meant for one. He had to admit, the thought of Will calling him _commander_ in the special, low voice he reserved for Mike’s ears only, made him blush. He mentally slapped himself, determinedly ignoring the rush of excitement which made him shiver just a little at this thought. There was, after all, work to do.

“Max,” he called loudly as he marched onto the _Ebony Hawk_. She and Lucas peered over the railing of the hold platform, and he smiled up at her. “Have the cargo in our cabins moved in here.”

“But we might need the hold space for other equipment,” she protested, and he shook his head.

“Negative, we’re leaving as soon as we’re ready.”

“Seriously?” Lucas said in surprise. “I was starting to think Hopper was going to make us stay behind.”

“Did someone say we’re leaving?” Dustin’s head popped eagerly up through the shaft into the engine room.

“Soon as you can have the ship ready,” Mike said, folding his arms confidently.

“Oh, she’s been ready for months, captain,” Dustin said excitedly, and Mike shook his head.

“Not anymore.” Max, Lucas and Dustin looked at him, perplexed. “That’s _commander_ to you.”

“No way,” Lucas said in disbelief. “You’ve been promoted?” Mike nodded proudly. Or at least, he hoped he was coming across as proud and not smug. Okay, maybe a little smugness was acceptable.

“Does that mean we get promotions too?” Max asked hopefully, and Mike raised an eyebrow.

“Organise an evacuation, and sure,” he shrugged, climbing up the ladder to see if he could find Will. He heard Max mutter something as he left, and called down, “The cargo, Mayfield!” He knew he was being an ass, but at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. After all, he’d earned it, hadn’t he?

He found Will alone in the cockpit, staring into space and absently levitating a wrench in front of him.

“Something on your mind?” Mike asked, dropping gently into the pilot’s seat and swivelling to face him. The wrench dropped into Will’s hand and he turned it over between his fingers, apparently thinking.

“My brother’s alive,” he said eventually, and Mike’s eyebrows lifted into his hair.

“Seriously? I thought he was killed in a crash?”

“A little more complicated than that, apparently.”

“Well…” Mike hesitated, confused by Will’s forlorn expression at this apparent good news. “Surely that’s a good thing?”

“Oh, it is,” Will said, tossing the wrench back into the toolbox under the comms desk. “But that was years ago – who knows what’s happened to him since then?”

“I suppose,” Mike said, leaning forward and squeezing Will’s hand. “Do you want to find him?”

Will let out a hollow laugh. “I have no idea where to look. Besides, we’d never be allowed to carry out such a mission.”

“I can allow it,” Mike said importantly, and Will looked sceptically at him.

“Captains can’t authorise that.”

“You’re right,” Mike nodded, trying to seem grave but unable to stifle the smile breaking out across his face. “But commanders can.”

Will’s jaw dropped. “Shut up.” Mike just grinned and pulled him into their cabin. They didn’t have to leave straight away, after all.

As the glowing vortex of hyperspace dissolved away, the gas giant Yavin loomed in front of the _Ebony Hawk_ , and Lucas let out a low whistle at its sheer, unfathomable magnitude.

“ _That’s_ where the base is?” Dustin asked in disbelief. “No wonder the Empire can’t find it.”

Mike shook his head. “It’s made of gas, no one could live there. The base is on one of its moons.”

“Ten degrees to the right,” El said quietly. Mike couldn’t feel her emotions through the Force the way Will could, but even he could tell she was nervous, and he wasn’t totally sure she’d forgiven Will for their altercation that morning.

“Green Group, how are we doing out there?” he called into the intercom, and Will’s voice resounded through the speaker.

“ _All quiet out here, Green Leader,_ ” he said.

“We’re starting our approach on the moon.”

“ _Copy that. We’ll take you in._ ” There was a beat, and Will’s voice piped up again. “ _All wings, form up on my position and prepare for landing._ ”

Nine A-wing starfighters glided smoothly overhead, forming a neat V-shape around the _Ebony Hawk_. Mike could just make out Will’s starfighter at the front, which Dustin had modified with an astromech slot in the wing for Chester, rather like the old Jedi starfighters. To Mike’s slight annoyance, C1-13S had taken an uncharacteristic shine to Will, following all of his orders without complaint. Mike could never help but feel more than a little jealous that Will ever managed to make the stupid little droid do as it was told.

The small moon, littered with seas and tropical forests, drew closer, and Max reported an incoming transmission.

“ _This is Ground Zero._ _Identify yourself._ ”

“Ground Zero, this is the _Ebony Hawk_ of Green Group, requesting landing.”

Momentary radio silence followed this pronouncement, before the speaker hummed again. “ _Affirmative, commander. Your team is cleared to land._ ”

“Well, we made it,” Lucas murmured, drumming his hands on Mike’s shoulders, who grinned.

“Let’s just hope this base is really as secret as they say,” he replied, as they spotted the enormous towers of a stone temple rising above the treetops.

“Engaging landing gears,” said El, bringing them expertly to the ground among the circle of A-wings.

They filed out of the ship, and saluted the welcoming committee.

“Welcome to Yavin Four,” said a woman whom Mike recognised. The entire galaxy did, in fact: for this was Mon Mothma – the senator for Chandrila, who had regularly spoken out against the Emperor and had called the various rebel cells to ally together nearly two years prior.

Mike’s attention was drawn, however, to another, equally regally-dressed, member of the committee, and he stared at her in disbelief. “What are _you_ doing here?”

A young woman a few years his senior stared frostily at him. Although he had grown much since their last encounter, she remained almost as tall as him, and though her hair and attire were different, Mike knew he would recognise his elder sister anywhere.

“Commander, this is Senator Nancy Wheeler of Coruscant.”

“Thank you, senator,” Mike said with polite disdain. “I know who she is.”

“Commander Wheeler is my brother,” Nancy said quietly to Mothma. “May I speak with him privately?”

“By all means,” she said. “I shall brief the rest of the team. Follow me, please,” she added to the group. Will caught Mike’s eye and tilted his head questioningly, but Mike nodded and gestured that he should go with the others, before wandering off with Nancy, his hands clasped firmly behind his back so he didn’t hit her.

“What’s the big idea, then?” he demanded, all propriety forgotten.

She looked blankly at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Posing for Father, are you? _Spying?_ ”

“For goodness’ sake, Michael,” she snapped. “I thought in the last nine years you might have grown up a little.” He ground his teeth, sorely tempted to pull out his blasters and finish it there and then. “I am a legitimate member of the Alliance. _Father_ has no idea.”

He paused and looked suspiciously at her. “Really?”

“Really. He retired a couple of years ago. It took me all of a few months to realise that something wasn’t right in the Senate, and I started to wonder if there was more I could do.” She led him down a quiet corridor, away from a rowdy common room full of off-duty troops, laughing and playing games. “Then I remembered Senator Mothma’s call to arms, and contacted her.”

“So you’re really on our side?”

“I was never on _their_ side, Michael,” she said.

“It’s Mike,” he said coldly, and she nodded in acknowledgement.

“Mike,” she said, stopping and looking at him. “I’ve never stood for the Empire – but I thought there was more I could do in the Senate than running around picking fights with the Imperial Navy.” She sighed. “As it turned out, I was wrong.”

“What’s it like?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

“It’s awful,” she said gloomily. “Every day we have to vote for the Empire’s latest oppressive schemes. Increasing taxes on the working classes. Endorsing the trafficking of slaves between worlds. Diverting civil funds to the military.”

“Why don’t you vote against the measures?”

“Because we’ve all seen what happens to those who do,” she said, her voice shaking very slightly. “At the end of the clone wars, an example was made of two thousand senators who had tried to petition the Emperor to give up some of his powers. I was only eight, but I remember it well enough.” She shuddered. “So we keep our heads down, stay under the radar, and work in secret to bring the system down.”

“Badass,” Mike said, a hint of admiration in his voice, and she smiled at him.

“Something like that.”

“Did you know I was coming?”

“The report said a Commander Wheeler was arriving,” she nodded, “but I couldn’t be completely certain it was you. I didn’t realise you were a commander,” she said, ruffling his hair.

He shook her off, irritated. “Yeah, which means I outrank you.”

Nancy waved a hand airily. “Rank between senators and officers is hazy ground. I could have you killed if I wanted to.”

“I could kill you myself if I wanted to,” he retorted, and she gave him a withering look.

“I’d like to see you try.” They had wandered out onto one of the landing platforms, and she scanned the terrain, before pointing at the landing gears of another cargo ship, some 300 metres away. “See that stintaril?” she said, and Mike squinted at the distant rodent, partially obscured by the grass growing between the stones. It was chewing on an animal corpse, and he wrinkled his nose. “Ten credits says I can hit it with one shot.”

Mike snorted: there was no way she could shoot something that small from that distance. He was about to receive a little pocket change. “You’re on.”

Nancy pulled a long-barrelled blaster pistol from the leather holster at her side, closed an eye and fired. A single blaster bolt whizzed through the air, knocking the stintaril off its feet, unquestionably dead. Mike’s jaw dropped open, and she held out a hand.

“I don’t have ten credits,” he mumbled, and she smiled smugly.

“Guess you’ll just have to owe me,” she said. “Come on. You don’t want to miss your briefing.”

She wandered off, and Mike watched her go, deeply conflicted. On the one hand, it was good to see her again, and to discover that she was in fact on the side of the Alliance. However, their conversation had hurt him: he had given up everything seven years ago in defiance of the Empire – his family, his home, his inheritance.

Nancy, however, was apparently a respected member of the Alliance Council, the senator of the galaxy’s most influential system, and to top it all, she lived in luxury in the senatorial palace. She had _so_ much more than him, and hadn’t worked anywhere nearly as hard as he had.

Okay, sure, she had to actively participate in the oppression of the galaxy to maintain her cover, but since the motions she voted for would be carried without her, so what? Pressing a button on her stupid podium in the Senate arena didn’t exactly compare to facing death in the eye almost every day for nine years.

Meanwhile, he didn’t even have ten credits to his name to pay off their pointless bet. As he dwelt on this, he felt his temper return, and he clenched his fists tightly. He barely registered the timely arrival of his boyfriend, and flinched when Will rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Fine,” he snapped, shrugging him off and starting to walk away, but Will caught up and planted himself in front of him, hazel eyes searching his own.

“Mike,” he said softly, and Mike’s jaw stiffened.

“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?”

Will’s face broke out into a gentle smile. “I know a place.”

Mike was more than a little surprised when Will led him back into the temple. He hadn’t expected the place where they could talk privately to be in the midst of all the people he was trying to avoid, but he trusted Will, so he followed him through the hallways and up a spiral staircase deep in the building.

“What is this place?” Mike asked moodily, feeling a little breathless: they must have climbed at least two hundred stairs, and Will didn’t seem to be slowing down.

“This temple was constructed by the local population during the last Sith Empire,” Will said. “The ruling Sith Lords enslaved the Massassi people and forced them to build it for them. That’s what El says, anyway. We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?”

“She’s found a place where we can train,” Will replied.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that seem… I don’t know, dangerous? Training to be a Jedi in a Sith temple?”

“I thought so too,” Will shrugged. “But she says the old Jedi Temple on Coruscant was built over a Sith shrine, so I guess it’s okay.”

“And why am _I_ here?”

“I thought you might like to help me train.” Finally they reached a narrow passageway with an archway at the end. It opened up into a massive room the size of a fighter hangar, with an open wall through which the late afternoon sunlight flooded in. “You know, to take your mind off things.”

“Thanks,” Mike said, slightly overwhelmed by this simple, thoughtful gesture. “What, uh, do you want me to do?” He couldn’t exactly use a lightsaber, and Will knew that.

“Set your blasters to sting mode,” he said, retrieving an old flight helmet with an opaque visor. He stretched out a hand, and Mike watched as the Tenth Sister’s lightsaber swung through the air into it. He activated one of the blades, and Mike shivered at the scarlet light which emanated from it. “What’s wrong?” Will asked, and Mike guessed that he’d sensed his discomfort.

“I don’t like seeing you use that thing,” he said with disdain. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Will sighed. “It’s not exactly my first choice either. But you know how it is.”

Mike knew well enough, so he didn’t protest any further and pulled out his blasters, while Will activated a few training droids. They dutifully hovered around him, shooting stinging bolts at random intervals. Mike followed their lead and started to circle Will, firing his twin blasters intermittently. He watched as Will deflected each shot with little effort, being careful to deflect them up at the walls and never back at Mike.

Mike thought of Nancy. He reflected on their upbringing, and their parents’ sickening loyalty to the Emperor. He thought about the injustice of their respective situations, but then suddenly the only thing he could think about was how he had found a family, and found love. For all her wealth and power, who did Nancy have? And then he, upon seeing her for the first time in seven years, had snapped to her face and accused her of being a spy. Was he such an awful person? His vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears, and he dropped his blasters as he broke down into uncontrollable, gut-wrenching sobs.

He vaguely noticed Will looking over and frowning, before activating the second blade of the lightsaber and throwing it into the air in a whirlwind of crimson light. It sliced neatly through each of the training droids in turn as it completed its arc, deactivating and returning to Will’s belt as he knelt down beside Mike. He kissed the top of Mike’s head, cradling him in his arms, letting him cry into the soft woven fabric of his poncho.

With Will’s unspoken permission, Mike allowed himself to howl against Will’s chest, grieving: for the fear of losing his new family; for the loneliness to which Nancy had been subjected for the best part of a decade; and for the loss of his old life he’d never realised he felt.


	2. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the temple on Yavin IV, Will experiences a vision in the Force, while Mike undergoes a tentative reunion.

A lone star destroyer returned to realspace, drifting gently closer into orbit. A black-robed figure folded her arms behind her back and scowled at the small planet below. So _this_ was where the rebels had made camp. They were here; she was sure of it – her spies in the Outer Rim assured her that the _Ebony Hawk_ had come here, with its precious fugitives undoubtedly onboard.

The Tenth Sister clenched her teeth, allowing her rage to course through her veins, feeling her power increase as she drew on the darkness she felt inside. It was hungry for blood, and it would be satisfied. She would find them. She had not outlived every other Inquisitor simply by chance, but she knew Lord Vader would not be as forgiving if she allowed the Jedi to escape a second time.

“Ready my ship,” she said coldly, and the nervous officer who attended her scurried hastily away.

It was truly pathetic the way they cowered around her. They feared her power – as they should – but they didn’t understand it. They saw her as a witch; an illusionist, even. How wrong they were. Her power was more than could be comprehended, and it was only growing. They were right to fear her, for she had stared into the void, into the darkness of the universe, and had embraced it. She had known true pain, true loss, true suffering, and she was stronger because of it. Which of them could say the same?

As she steered her starfighter to the planet’s surface, she allowed herself a grim smile. Before too long, all of this could be reduced to dust and atoms at the Emperor’s slightest whim. The prospect of such chaos and destruction thrilled her, intensifying her already insatiable bloodlust.

She approached a massive cliff face, overlooking a forest and a vast ocean, and landed at the base of the hill leading to it. She didn’t want to risk the rebels shooting her fighter down; besides, she wanted to see the fear in their eyes. It was always a joy facing troops head-on: the fools always tried to shoot her, and she took great pleasure in killing them with their own blaster bolts intended for her.

The Tenth Sister frowned as she approached the base, having expected to hear the sounds of life echoing from inside the hangar. She jumped up and ignited her lightsaber, but no incoming blaster-fire met her arrival. The base was silent. Empty. She closed her eyes, feeling the flow of the Force through its hallways, and sensed… nothing.

The rebels had already left.

Fury burned behind her eyes; once bright blue, they now shone yellow, disfigured from years of immersion in her own hatred. She had failed again, and unless she corrected her mistake quickly, there would be severe consequences. She leaped down to the ground from the base and turned to face it, allowing her anger to drive her strength.

Letting out an ear-splitting yell, she curled her hands into fists and directed her aggression into the channels of the Force working through the cliff. Rocks loosened from the hangar ceiling, and its supporting pillars began to crack. The base crumbled and folded in on itself, lumps of turf from the top of the cliff collapsing and tumbling down the hillside. Clouds of red-brown dust plumed up around her, swirling around her like a tornado. With one massive effort, she blasted the dust storm away, releasing a shockwave that rippled outwards, levelling every tree in the forest at the base of the mountain. She sank to one knee, breathing heavily with exertion.

It would be better for her, she felt, to fall on her lightsaber than to face Vader again empty-handed. But no, it would not come to that, for the rebels were consistently predictable. If she couldn’t locate her base, she would draw them out of it – by any means necessary.

* * *

Will sat cross-legged in the temple, alone in the big hall he and El had set aside for his training. She was elsewhere on the base – in a meeting, if Will’s insights served him correctly. He could feel her in the Force, and his eyebrows twitched a half-inch closer together as he sensed her tension, feeling the emotions of the room. They were becoming heated, and the occupants were building towards an argument. He couldn’t see or hear the conversation, but he could read its energy, and he breathed out, refusing to let himself be influenced by what was going on.

He allowed himself to stop focusing on El’s conversation, and searched for Mike instead. He found him with little effort, and Will could tell he was asleep. Will smiled approvingly and cleared his mind, reminding himself to be mindful of the moment. He breathed slowly in and out, focusing only on the room he was in and the air entering and leaving his lungs, setting aside the other distractions around the building.

He reached deeper into the Force, and his eyebrow twitched as he heard a rumble behind him, as if stone was being dragged along the floor.

He heard something whisper, _Look!_

Opening his eyes, Will turned to his right to see that an archway had appeared in the solid brick wall. He examined it: it was a little taller than him, and the stones set into the frame of the arch made it seem as though it had always been there. He laid a hand on the arch, and nearly keeled over from the sheer force of the energy flowing through it. He pulled his hand away sharply, and summoned the Inquisitor’s lightsaber – just in case he needed a way to protect himself.

_No._

He blinked at the strength of the rebuke, so he dutifully dropped it, letting it fall to the rocky floor with a clatter. “Sorry.”

_Go._

He obeyed, wondering what kind of training this could be. El had never mentioned that this room had concealed doors, but it occurred to Will that it was possible she didn’t know herself. He glanced back around, and stones seemed to fold in on themselves, sealing off the archway and sinking the passageway into total darkness.

“No!” he called out, running back and pounding on the wall that had formed. He tried to push it down through the Force, but he was knocked off his feet, as though the temple had pushed him back. He winced as he climbed to his feet again, concluding that if he could not go back, he would have to go forward.

Will had never known such silence. Any sounds that had proven to be distractions before were gone. The echoes of the argument downstairs, or the laughter of the soldiers, or the steady puttering of resting starfighters – he could hear none of it, and it infuriated him. Quiet had been the way of the Empire; the physical manifestation of years of discipline and order.

 _Let go,_ said the voice in his head. Instinctively, Will stopped walking. As he meditated on the Force’s instruction, he sensed a chasm in front of him – a chasm, and a choice. On the far side of it was a ledge, which he could tell led to another tunnel. But if he were to drop into the abyss… who knew?

 _We will each be challenged,_ said a voice in his head – a different voice from before. _Our trust… our faith… our friendships._

Will blinked in confusion. Friendships? That was an odd detail to include. He understood the rest well enough, though. This was a test of trust, to see whether or not he trusted in the Force, or whether he trusted in himself. He hesitated only a moment before bending his knees slightly and jumping off the ledge upon which he was standing.

The wind whistled through his hair as he fell, further and further into the cavern. Finally, Will bent his knees, and landed cat-footed on ground softer than that of the temple. Although he presumed the Force had prompted him when he was about to land, he couldn’t shake off the sense that he only landed because he was prepared to, and that he could have stopped falling whenever he wanted. He shook his head at this peculiar notion and tried to focus on what was around him.

He stooped down to touch the floor; it was damp, and compressed at his touch, like some kind of lichen. He absently wiped his hand on his poncho and sniffed; the air was stale, and he shivered.

“Why am I here?” he asked aloud, half-expecting El to appear and explain the lesson.

 _Know your history._ Will frowned; of course he knew his history. He felt a shift in the Force and gasped, whirling round as a laughing child ran past him. He scanned the room, but whoever it was had gone.

A spaceship’s viewport hung in mid-air a few yards away, and he walked slowly towards it. Through it, he was looking down on a city-covered planet, with dozens of Imperial shipyards in orbit. A hint of recognition fluttered through his mind as the image blurred and vanished. In its place appeared two boys playing in a backstreet, and Will felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Jonathan,” he breathed, and the city planet appeared again. Will swallowed the lump in his throat as he understood what the Force was telling him. “Wait for me,” he said gently, in case Jonathan could hear him.

_Not only yours, but those who came before you._

Suddenly the room was illuminated by a spectrum of colour; as though he was surrounded by tens of thousands of vibrant stars, and he shielded his eyes from the overwhelming light. The lights dwindled gradually in number, until only a few remained. Two of them – one violet, one crimson, whirled and looped, as though they were dancing, or, very possibly, fighting. Will watched, entranced, as another bead of blue light joined them, and felt an internal twinge as the violet star evaporated like the rest. Two blue stars swirled around each other, before one morphed gradually to red, as a shadow fell over the room, making it glow with scarlet light.

Will turned again, and stumbled back in fright as he saw El, duelling ferociously with the Inquisitor, like she had fought the Tenth Sister on Mykapo nearly a year prior. He watched in frozen horror; how had she found them here? He cried out a warning, and a hand flew to his mouth as El’s attacker sliced her lightsaber into two pieces, before plunging the red blade into her abdomen. Will sank to his knees as El’s image evaporated before him.

“You couldn’t save her.” To his surprise, the voice did not belong to the Tenth Sister, and a wave of nausea washed over him as he realised whose it was. The attacker turned to face him, and he stared into his own face, encased in an Inquisitor’s helmet. “ _You_ did this.”

“No,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice shaking. “This is a trick.”

“Is it?” The other Will’s face twisted into a sardonic smile, his hand curling into a fist. “What about _this_?”

Will felt his blood run cold as two images appeared on either side of the vision before him, both suspended six inches in the air, struggling and clawing at their throats. A choked gasp escaped Mike’s lips, and Will saw his mother mouth his name. With two sickening snaps, their limbs went loose, and they slumped to the floor.

“ _You_ did this,” the other Will repeated softly, baring his scarlet blade in Will’s direction, but Will could take it no more. “You’ve lost your teacher… your lover… your mother…” He twirled the lightsaber, activating the second blade with a flourish. “You’re alone. What else you do have to lose?” He held out a hand, and the sadistic smile was back, with a greedy glint in his eyes. “Give yourself to me.”

“I won’t,” Will said, still breathing heavily. “I reject you.”

“Do you really?” the other Will asked, tilting his head. A fourth image appeared in his field of vision – an elderly man in black robes, his pale skin horribly scarred from decades of immersion in the darkness, burned by his own hands. With one swipe of the other Will’s blade, the figure of the Emperor crumpled, and dust flurried out of the heap of robes on the ground. “You see?” the other Will whispered. “See how much you could achieve… the lives you could save…”

“No,” Will said forcefully to the other version of himself, louder and more boldly than before. “It’s not the right way.”

The other Will smirked. “We’ll see.”

Summoning every ounce of strength he had, he pushed forward, blasting the other Will away from him. That image, like the others, faded before his eyes and, exhausted, Will walked doggedly forward, to ensure that it was absolutely gone. There was a faint glow where the other Will would have landed, so he braced himself for another fight.

But the illusion had shattered, and all that Will could see was a small crystal, lying on a patch of moss on the floor. It shone more brightly as he picked it up, cupping his hands around it. Its energy radiated a warm pulse against his skin, as though it had a heartbeat of its own, perfectly synchronised with Will’s.

 _Breathe._ The voice in his head was back, and Will obeyed it, stretching out and breathing his life force into the crystal in his hands. Its warmth and light intensified, and very briefly, glowed green. He held it tightly as the urge to sleep overcame him. Releasing himself to the will of the Force, he closed his eyes and collapsed onto the soft ground.

“Will?” As he slowly regained consciousness, he could hear El calling his name, and shaking him. He opened his eyes and sat up with a groan, looking around in confusion. “Will, are you alright?”

“I’m good,” he said, blinking at the evening sunlight pouring through the open wall of their training room. Suddenly he remembered his vision, and immediately pulled her into a tight hug. “How did I get here?” There was a high-pitched hissing in his ears, and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of it.

Now it was El’s turn to look confused. “What do you mean? You were here when I left.”

“I was under the temple, I think,” he explained. “The Force gave me a vision.” He jumped to his feet and ran to the wall, running a hand along the stones where the archway had appeared. “There was a door here,” he said, frowning at the unyielding stones. “I’m not crazy.”

“Never said you were,” she said, although her expression said quite enough.

“I can prove it,” he said, reaching into his pocket for the crystal he’d found. His hand closed on it, and he held it out triumphantly in front of him. “I found this down there.”

El’s eyes widened in amazement. “Will, do you know what this is?”

“Not really. Crystal of some kind.”

“It’s a _kyber_ crystal,” she said, her tone betraying a peculiar emotion. If Will didn’t know her better, he’d have said she sounded excited.

“Okay, and that is..?”

She reached to her belt. “Kyber crystals power lightsabers,” she explained, holding hers out to show him. She twisted the hilt in a certain way, and a compartment slid open, revealing a blue crystal, much like the one Will was holding. “Or rather, they help focus the energy that a Jedi channels through it.” Will’s eyes lit up as he realised what she was telling him, and she smiled. “Come on.”

They returned to the _Ebony Hawk_ , and he waited in the common room while she retrieved a crate from the cabin she shared with Max. She sat across the table from him, and set the crate down.

“What’s this?” he said curiously, shaking off his irritation – the hissing was still present.

“A collection,” she said sadly. “After the Purge, I moved from system to system to avoid detection, relying on the Force to guide me to planets where there had been Jedi.” She gazed off into the middle distance, remembering. “Often the clones either didn’t find the lightsabers, or else they just ignored them.”

“You kept them?”

She shook her head and pushed it towards him. “I dismantled them. Mostly, anyway. I kept one of the crystals to make a second blade for my own, then sold the rest for credits. I kept the materials, though.” She allowed herself a smile. “I always hoped they’d be used again.”

“So, what, I just choose what I want?”

“What feels right,” she corrected him. “This weapon… it’s supposed to be more of an extension of yourself in the Force.”

“Will you show me?” he asked timidly, and she nodded.

“To an extent. The Force will guide you through it.”

Will sifted through the crate, choosing different pieces of the materials El had collected over the years. Once this was done, he laid them out in front of them, sensing their synergy as El talked him through testing that the different parts would work together. Dustin provided wires and a switch from his own box of spare parts, then, at her suggestion, Will closed his eyes and lifted the components into the air. There they hovered, awaiting his instruction.

He waved a hand slightly, and the pieces slotted together neatly, and dropped into his hand. It was heavier than he’d expected, and the metal was cool in his hand. He turned it over, examining it.

“Is that it?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“You can weld the pieces together if you’re worried about it coming apart,” she said. “Otherwise… yeah, you’re done.”

Will resolved to take this advice another time, so he stood up, gripped it with both hands, and pressed the switch with his thumb. A single blade the colour of life emerged, casting an emerald-green glow onto Will’s delighted face. “Whoa,” he breathed, practising a couple of block motions to test it out.

“How does it feel?” El asked, closing the lid of the crate with a satisfied look on her face.

“It’s bizarre,” he said wonderingly, pressing the switch again and clipping it to his belt. “It’s like having a third arm.”

She laughed at this, and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it.” He beamed at her, and she gestured with her head. “Go on, I can tell you’re dying to show the others. And get rid of that Inquisitor’s saber.” He ran off, feeling overjoyed at his success, but something bugged him about her instruction: he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to destroy the other lightsaber just yet, so he clipped it to the inside of his poncho where it wouldn’t be seen.

An idea struck him as he exited the cargo hold, and he made a mental note to return to the training room at some point, as there was something there he wanted to investigate. After all, if there was one secret door out of the chamber, there could be others.

* * *

Dustin hopped up the wing onto the _Ebony Hawk_ , where Mike, Lucas and Max were passing a flask between them. Mike grimaced as he sipped it; it was Lucas’, and Mike never asked where he acquired it. Dustin held out a hand, and Mike did not hesitate in passing the flask over. He just wanted some water to wash the damned stuff down.

“Never thought it would happen,” Dustin remarked as he took a swig.

“What?” Max asked, leaning back against the roof of the ship and sighing.

“Will, building his own laser-sword-thing.”

Mike nearly spat out the drink. “His own _what?_ ”

Dustin hummed an affirmative. “El wanted some wires and stuff to help with it.”

“I don’t like it,” Lucas remarked, taking the flask back and putting the stopper in.

The other three looked at him with surprise. “What’s wrong with Will being a Jedi?”

“And how come you’re only mentioning it now?” Dustin added.

“Okay, look, this is just between us,” Lucas said, “but I’ve never really liked the idea of Jedi in general.”

“What about El?” Max demanded. “Do you not like the _idea_ of El?” Lucas held up his hands in surrender.

“Individually they’re fine,” he said. “But as an organisation, the Jedi were never very good to Mandalore.”

“Well, Mandalore wasn’t in the Republic,” Max said slowly, “so I don’t think there was a lot the Jedi could do.”

“The Jedi helped planets that weren’t in the Republic,” Lucas shot back. “Especially during the clone wars: Geonosis, Kamino, Christophsis, Felucia… Do you know what the extent of the Jedi’s ‘intervention’ on Mandalore was?” Mike and Dustin shook their heads. “They showed up, started a feud with one of the most powerful clans, then ran away as soon as the fighting started.”

“I’m sure that’s not – ” Mike started, but Lucas cut him off.

“That’s _exactly_ what happened.”

“But what about at the end of the war?” Dustin asked. “I’m not an expert on the time period, or anything, but didn’t the Republic come back?”

“Oh yeah, the _Republic_ did,” Lucas shrugged. “But the Jedi didn’t really bother coming to fight.” He sighed. “I guess what I’m saying is, El being a Jedi was fine. But now Will’s training, and there are rumours of other Jedi in hiding, or even in this Rebellion… it just seems a little too familiar to me.”

“I’m sorry,” said a voice from somewhere below them, and they jumped. They hadn’t noticed Will emerge from inside the ship. He climbed up and sat down across from Lucas. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“It’s not personal,” Lucas said quietly. “It’s just a trust thing, you know?”

Will nodded, and reached under his poncho, pulling out a lightsaber hilt. Mike couldn’t help smiling as he took in the design, as it was very… well, it was very _Will_. It was more stylish and flashy than El’s very practical design – the switch and grip were encased in a brighter metal, and part of the hilt was a weave of metal with something that looked almost like marble. He had only a few seconds to examine it, though, before Will tossed it to Lucas, who caught it and eyed him curiously.

“It’s a trust thing,” Will echoed. “Can I ask you… why did you leave Mandalore?”

Mike, Dustin and Max exchanged a glance as Lucas frowned at Will. “At the end of the clone wars, the Republic sieged Mandalore’s capital, capturing the crime lord who was controlling the planet.” He absently reached for his helmet and held it protectively in his lap. “However, the Republic fell less than a day after the end of the battle, and we were left without a leader. As you can imagine, the new Empire took full advantage of this power vacuum, and all but enslaved the Mandalorian people.”

“That’s awful,” Will said quietly, and Lucas let out a hollow laugh.

“The irony is, the Republic helped us fight to free Mandalore from an oppressive ruler, only to become one itself.” His face twisted into a sour expression. “My father dared to speak out against the Emperor, rallying our clan against the Empire, claiming we were better off under the Shadow Collective.”

“What happened?”

“The Empire came for him, as they always do, and they took him to the detention centre.” Lucas’ face darkened, and he pulled out the flask again. “Me, my sister and a few other members of our clan tried to break him out, but they overwhelmed us. I was lucky, I got away. But I couldn’t go home.”

“Why not?”

“Because my clan would have assumed that I’d left them there to die,” Lucas explained. “Mandalorians aren’t cowards. If we fight, we fight to the death. They would have preferred me to die than to run away.” He shoved the flask back in his belt and looked at Will. “So as far as they’re concerned, I did.”

“Your own family doesn’t know you’re alive?” Will said, astonished.

“Yes, they know,” Lucas said firmly, gesturing around himself – at Mike, Max, Dustin, the _Ebony Hawk_ and the base. Mike understood him perfectly: although he talked about his Mandalorian clan, clearly he thought of the rebels as his family, and he felt rather touched.

“I thought my brother had died,” Will said eventually, and the quiet conversation that had started up between the others fizzled out immediately. Mike’s ears perked up suddenly. _Thought my brother had died…_ Did Will mean that his brother was alive after all? “He was at the Academy, like me, but the Empire suspected him of treachery, so they shot his ship down.”

“The Empire is ruthless,” Lucas said grimly. “It’s why we need to take them down.”

“Darlon was much the same,” Dustin added. “It was faithful to the Republic all through the clone wars, but after the Empire came, they started ripping it apart for its natural resources.”

“It’s actually surprising more systems don’t support the Rebellion,” Mike said, and Dustin shrugged.

“Maybe. But most people just want to stay alive, so they stay quiet.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s much of a life,” Mike said to a murmur of agreement. He glanced up as something moved in his peripheral vision, and frowned as he saw Nancy approaching them. “Senator.” He surreptitiously kicked Lucas, who hastily shoved the flask back into his jacket.

“Commander,” she said, then, apparently reconsidering, added, “Mike.”

He dropped down from the roof and followed Nancy away from the ship. He vaguely noticed Lucas passing Will’s lightsaber back to him, and wondered where Will was going with it if El wasn’t with him. “I wanted to talk to you,” she said, distracting him from his musings.

“Me too.”

“I know you don’t trust me,” she began, and he shook his head.

“It isn’t that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I was…” He threw up his hands in bewilderment. “I don’t know, jealous?”

“Jealous?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah!” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his flight suit and shrugging. “You’ve accomplished as much as I have, and you get to live in our big house, and you’ve never had to risk your life for your next meal. It’s just hard, you know?”

“The irony is,” she said with a gentle laugh, “I envied _you_. You’re right – I’ve never had to worry about any of those things. Do you know how _boring_ my life is when I’m on Coruscant?”

“I guess not,” he said.

“Besides, like you say, I don’t feel like I’ve earned anything I’ve achieved. Not like you have.”

“Finally, we agree on something,” he joked, and Nancy smiled.

“I’m not saying we’re going to get on perfectly,” she admitted, “but it’s nice to be on the same side again, isn’t it? You know, like when we were kids?”

“I guess so.” He kicked a stone and watched it bounce across the flagstones until it hit the base of a ladder with a satisfying metallic _thunk_.

“I just wish there was something I could do to make things up to you,” she said gently, and Mike had a bright idea.

“I need some more information first,” he said slowly, “but there might be.”

Mike left Nancy and went looking for Will, determined to find out what he had meant by the idea of Jonathan having survived his crash, but curiously, he was nowhere to be found. He searched the ship, the briefing rooms and recreational areas, he even braved the 217 stairs to Will and El’s training hall, to no avail.

By the time he reappeared, the sun was gradually sinking below the horizon, casting shafts of warm evening light through the boughs of the trees.

“There you are,” Mike exclaimed. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed him until Will leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, before pulling him into a hug. “You’ve been gone for ages, where were you?”

“Just around the base,” Will said vaguely. “Up in the training room, mostly.”

“Huh, not when I looked.”

“We must have just missed each other,” Will shrugged. “Sorry. Did you need me for something?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” Mike said, slipping a hand into Will’s as they wandered out of the hangar. “Something you said earlier – you made it seem like you thought your brother was still alive.”

“Mom told me,” Will admitted. “Just before we left Dantooine. And in the temple, when I found the crystal for my lightsaber, I had sort of a… vision. As though I was looking through a window to another place. I think he’s there.”

“Seriously?” Mike’s heartrate started to pick up with anticipation. “Where?”

“An Imperial prison, on Fondor.”

“Fondor…” Mike murmured, frowning. It was familiar.

“The Empire does a lot of their shipbuilding there,” Will explained. “But it’s also the site of one of the biggest Imperial prisons in the galaxy. It’s not like we could go, though. I’m not ready…” He tailed off.

“Of course you’re ready,” Mike said in disbelief. “You’ve had a year of training, and you have a lightsaber now. How could you not be ready?” Will bit his lip and looked away. Not for the first time in the conversation, Mike had the distinct impression that Will was hiding something from him. “I’m sure we can manage it,” Mike said confidently. “We’d need quite the team, but I’m sure El can organise something.”

“I don’t think General Hopper would like us undertaking such a personal mission,” Will said doubtfully.

“Nonsense! All we have to do is tell him we’re liberating an Imperial prison, and he’ll be onboard.”

“Yeah,” said Will with an incredulous laugh. “On a planet whose Imperial population rivals only Coruscant and Scarif. Time for another plan, Mike.”

Mike frowned and looked away, thinking, then shook his head and squeezed Will’s hand. “No, I don’t think so. We’re going to do this. We’ve been sitting in the shadows too long – it’s time to strike a solid blow against the Empire.”

* * *

The darkness is patient: it waits.

It waited, for millennia, while the Jedi sat in their temples, maintaining the illusion of peace, believing they had vanquished it. It waited, as shadows crept up around the galaxy’s so-called protectors. It waited for decades, as a boy grew up, gradually becoming the one who would destroy everything. It waits now, as another boy is tempted by the power the temple holds.

The darkness is observant: it watches.

It watched in sardonic glee as war ravaged the galaxy, dividing up the Jedi, luring them into the perfect trap, setting the stage for their timely demise. It watched, as the shadows caught up to them, snuffing them out one by one. It watches now, as the boy opens one of the temple’s doors. For this temple hides much darkness, and many secrets. This room alone has many doors, as the boy is starting to discover.

The darkness is reasonable: it understands.

It understood before, when the two surviving Sith swore vengeance against those who had destroyed them. It sympathised, when a young man was willing to burn everything to save the one he loved from the end he foresaw. It understands now, as this other boy probes the temple’s secrets, searching for a way to restore the galaxy to order.

The darkness is attractive: it beckons.

So it has beckoned to every Sith, every fallen Jedi there has ever been; none of them wilful enough to resist its tantalising pull. So it beckoned to a tormented young husband, tempted by promises of power over death. So it beckons now, as the boy approaches the temple’s Altar of the Dead, glowing with magenta light.

The darkness is cunning: it deceives.

So it deceived the Jedi for centuries, allowing them to believe that they had conquered it, whilst clouding their visions and infiltrating their values. It deceived the one believed to be Foretold, convincing him that embracing it would allow him to manipulate life. In the same way, now it whispers security to the boy in the temple, under the naïve delusion that his one-time rejection of the darkness is permanent.

The scrolls on the altar hiss to the boy, whispering their promises of the power he requires to save his family, and indeed the galaxy. The boy’s spirit is conflicted – torn between the teachings of his master and the promise of salvation – but the fact that he has not yet turned away is a hint of which direction he is leaning. The darkness sees the altar flames reflected in the boy’s eyes, and senses the excitement in his soul at the prospect of obtaining such forbidden knowledge. Whether or not such knowledge or power exists matters little, for by the time the boy embraces it, it will be much, much too late.

Thus is the way of the darkness. Its principal deception is the one believed by almost every Jedi and Sith alike: that the darkness cannot be rejected once it is accepted. Herein lies its power, for what fallen Jedi will choose to reject the darkness if they believe it to be impossible?

The boy reaches out and touches the scrolls, his face alight with wonder and red fire, failing to notice the shadow lingering in the corners of the altar room, gradually creeping towards him.

If the shadow could smile, it would.


	3. IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rebels, led by Mike and El, conduct a perilous mission to liberate an Imperial prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: major character death occurs in this chapter. Skip to the end for a simplified plot summary, if you wish.

As the first rays of sunlight trickled through the cabin’s tiny porthole, Mike stirred gently, unaccustomed to the sensation of waking up naturally. Normally it was an alarm which woke him, but often it was Will, wriggling out from their bed: the bunk they shared had not been intended for use by more than one person, and any movement was noticed. Will frequently left early to train, but on this occasion, Mike could still feel his warmth, radiating against his chest. He buried his nose into Will’s neck, grateful for the heat.

Mike wasn’t sure what to make of Yavin IV. It was, he had observed, temperate pretty much all over, covered in tropical forests. The nights often dropped cold though, despite the moon’s temperate climate, and the fact that it was currently summer.

Then again, it was basically always summer; it had been for the last two years since the Rebellion had arrived, in fact. Dustin – the group’s resident planetary expert – had explained that it took Yavin Prime and its associated moons around sixteen standard years to orbit the sun, so the seasons lasted up to four standard years at a time. When they’d first arrived, it had taken Mike some time to get his head around this fact, as well as to contemplate that it would probably be summer for the entire time the Alliance would inhabit this base.

He could feel himself waking gradually, thoughts of sleep drifting away for another night. He stifled a yawn, and grinned as a gentle snore escaped Will’s throat. His smile faded rapidly, though, as he thought about Will. Simply put, he was more than a little concerned about him.

He’d been acting… well, weird. Despite his euphoria at having built his own lightsaber, he seemed to be increasingly unenthusiastic about training with El, and he wouldn’t tell Mike why. Mike supposed it was just the vaguely clashing personalities which had been their main source of conflict over the last year. All the same, though, something in him sensed there was more going on – not least because of Will’s inexplicable disappearance the day before.

There was _definitely_ something fishy about that: Will had said that he’d been training, and Mike wanted to believe him, but he had checked their meditation room and was convinced that Will hadn’t been there. As for having ‘just missed each other’, as Will had put it – the base wasn’t _that_ big. As far as Mike was aware, there was only one corridor leading to the training hall. And then there was his comment about not being ready to attack the Imperial prison – how could this be, when he had a year of training and a new lightsaber? None of it made any _sense_.

Will let out a soft sigh as he, too, started to wake up, and Mike’s heart softened a little. Even though he couldn’t fit the pieces together, he knew there must be a logical explanation. He trusted Will; he always had, which was part of the reason he loved him.

This particular train of thought ground to an abrupt halt, and Mike froze up momentarily. It had never occurred to him that he loved Will. Or, more accurately, he had never allowed himself to acknowledge that he did; for one thing, he was pretty sure he’d read somewhere that Jedi weren’t allowed to marry. For another, neither was it exactly encouraged among rebels.

With this in mind, despite every hour they’d spent together – everything they had done, every touch, every kiss, every stolen moment of peace – Mike had never told Will that he loved him, and Will had never told him so either.

He felt Will roll over next to him, stretching his back gently as his eyes fluttered open. Mike grinned and leaned over to kiss his forehead. In this moment, he realised, it didn’t matter that he’d never told Will that he loved him. He knew.

“Morning,” he murmured, and Will just nodded, clearly not quite conscious enough to form words. He nuzzled into Mike’s chest and let out a deep sigh, and Mike’s happiness dulled slightly as the world fell back into place around him, and he suddenly remembered where they were and what they were doing. They were, in effect, in the midst of a war, and not one they were winning. “I know,” he mumbled into Will’s hair, holding him close. “I know.”

“Sorry.” Will’s voice was muffled against Mike’s nightshirt, but he heard him clearly enough. “I didn’t mean to bum you out.”

“It’s alright, I needed a reality check anyway,” Mike said, attempting to sound jovial.

Will smiled sadly up at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Come on,” he said, letting out a grunt of exertion as he dropped down from the bunk. “Do you know what this briefing’s for?”

“Yeah, about that…”

Will narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”

“I called in a favour,” Mike admitted. “Nancy got me some information, and… well, we’re raiding that Imperial prison.”

Will dropped his shirt in shock. “You did _what_?” Mike wasn’t overly surprised by Will’s indignation, but it hurt a little all the same.

“I figured it was a way of killing two scazz with one stone,” Mike said with a shrug. “We can rescue your brother, and kick the Empire in the teeth in the process!”

“But I told you I wasn’t ready for that,” Will said, his brow furrowed with sudden anxiety.

“If we sit around waiting to feel ready,” Mike countered, “we may never do anything at all. Besides, El’s organising it, and her missions always go to plan. More or less.” Will said nothing, but nodded reluctantly as he strapped his belt to his waist. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night,” Mike added gently. “I just didn’t want you to get worked up right before going to sleep.”

“Thanks, I guess,” said Will, his voice soft but clipped. Mike clambered out of the bed and started to get dressed as well.

A metallic _thud_ on the door announced Chester’s arrival, who chuntered to the effect that the others were already having breakfast. “We’re coming,” Mike called, pulling on his boots and flight vest. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Will said apprehensively.

Mike listened with unusual focus as Hopper briefed them, outlining the operation in detail according to El’s plan. By the time he had finished his spiel, no one was in any doubt as to what would happen.

A large rebel convoy was to travel to Fondor, dropping out of hyperspace at the last possible second to catch the Empire off-guard. A flagship and four fighter squadrons would engage the shipyard defences, providing cover for the two ground assaults.

The Fondor shipyards formed a nearly inescapable blockade, allowing ships onto the planet with relative ease, but letting absolutely nothing out. In order for the prison raid to be successful, the chain of shipyards had to be broken, or the rescue transports would have nowhere to go. With this in mind, Joyce and her team would infiltrate the shipyard situated directly above the planet’s prison sector, with the aim to shut it down and disable it, allowing Mike’s ground team to liberate the prison and escape with the Empire’s captives through the hole in the blockade.

“Any questions?” Hopper asked gruffly as his speech drew to a close.

Lucas raised his hand. “That’s all very well, but how are the shipyard team supposed to get onboard? Those shipyards are built to be impenetrable!”

“Two of our fighter squadrons will be made up of bombers,” Nancy explained. “Together, they’ll be able to overwhelm the shipyard’s defensive shields.”

“According to our Imperial intel, the power surge should temporarily cripple the shipyard’s radar,” Hopper added, “allowing the team to get inside undetected.” Lucas nodded, apparently convinced.

“I’m in,” said Max firmly, and Dustin raised a hand in agreement.

“We don’t deny it will be risky,” El said, speaking for the first time. “But if there was no risk, we wouldn’t need to go.” A murmur of assent passed around the room, and El deactivated the holotable. “May the Force be with us.”

The cockpit of the _Ebony Hawk_ was quiet, save for the thrum of its engines. Nobody really felt much like speaking, least of all Mike. In truth, the only person he wanted to talk to in this moment was Will, who was thirty feet away in his starfighter, and not exactly available for private conversation.

Everyone knew the stakes, and the extent of their individual responsibilities. If the bombers couldn’t cripple the shipyard’s defences, Joyce’s U-wing wouldn’t make it onboard. If Joyce’s team then couldn’t disable the target shipyard, the ground teams would be stuck on the planet’s surface. If the starfighter team couldn’t protect the transports, no one would make it out of the atmosphere, and if the ground teams couldn’t rescue the prisoners, then the whole endeavour would have been a waste of time. There was a lot at risk.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Lucas mumbled, habitually polishing his helmet for luck.

“I’d be worried if you didn’t,” Max said shortly.

“I don’t,” Dustin shrugged. “We used to pull these kinds of stunts all the time, remember?”

“This is a little more than stealing a few crates of fuel,” Mike murmured, and the others nodded gravely.

“I still reckon we can pull it off,” Dustin said confidently, and Mike shot El a knowing look.

Before they’d left, Will had privately confided in him that he himself was not entirely assured about the mission. Despite his own misgivings, Mike pointed out that El’s plan was, if risky, was coherent, and that Hopper had all but insisted that they go. After all, they had escaped worse scrapes than this one.

“Preparing to pull out of hyperspace,” Mike announced.

“ _Copy that, Green Leader._ ”

Mike’s blood chilled as they returned to realspace, and saw the multitudes of Imperial shipyards surrounding Fondor, one or two full-size star destroyers docked at each one.

“May the gods help us,” Lucas muttered as they surveyed the scene. Apparently unshaken by the technological horrors before them, El took charge and put her plan into motion.

“This is _Ebony Hawk_ , calling all wings. Form up on my position and brace yourselves for a fight – they’ll scramble their fighters within minutes.” She pressed a couple of switches and continued. “Gold Group, commence bombing runs, as many as you can get. Take out that shipyard’s shields or we’re not going anywhere.”

“ _Copy that, Ebony Hawk_.”

“ _We’re with you._ ” The captains of the Y-wing squadrons spoke in turn, and they all watched as the large fighters turned towards the ships shield generators.

“Max, keep an eye on that scanner,” El said, frowning at her control panel. “Lucas, Dustin – turret guns, now.” They hastily obeyed, and Mike spared a glance in Max’s direction, her sharp eyes flickering over different scanners and screens.

“Try and hack into their comms,” Mike suggested, and Max nodded, pulling on a headset and twisting a few dials.

“Green Two, talk to me,” El was saying, and Mike’s heart twisted upon hearing Will’s voice over their intercom.

“ _No sign of any Imperial fighters yet. We’re ready and waiting to take you down._ ”

“Roger that,” El said, steering the _Ebony Hawk_ to face the planet’s surface. “Red Group, cover the shipyard team. Green Group, transports, follow me.”

“They’ve detected us,” Max called. “Fighters will be in the air in moments.”

“Then we’d better get a move on,” Mike said grimly, plunging the throttle lever forward, propelling them towards the atmosphere.

Fondor loomed closer and closer, until Max added, “We’re entering the atmosphere,” and the cockpit burned yellow.

“ _Fighters inbound!_ ” Will called over the speaker. Sure enough, waves of TIE fighters were pouring out of the shipyard’s hangars, lighting up the night sky with green lasers.

“Keep us out of their line of fire,” Mike said to El. “I’ll set the coordinates for the prison.” She gave him a thumbs-up, and Mike turned his attention to his controls, trusting her completely. The ship shook as a few stray bolts made contact, but the shields held, and Will’s fighter group was all over them, their nimble, ruthless interceptors shredding the enemy fighters like parchment.

Presently the prison came into view, and it made Mike shudder. The enormous building, constructed years ago on a lonely island in the midst of a raging sea, was jet-black and coated with red Imperial flags. Heavy artillery cannons blasted endless waves of flak in their direction, and only El’s Force-guided steering prevented them from being blasted into oblivion. Seated in the _Ebony Hawk_ ’s turret guns, Dustin and Lucas fired two shots each, destroying the Imperial shuttles stationed there, clearing the way for the _Ebony Hawk_ and the rebel transports to land.

“Engaging landing gears,” Mike said, as El twisted the throttle around, allowing Dustin to blast a lone TIE fighter which had broken away from the main group. Spinning out of control, it gathered speed and crashed into the base of the prison, ripping a hole in its walls, before tipping over the edge of the cliff and plummeting into the sea. “Green Group, thanks for the assist,” Mike called. “Get back up to the shipyards and help out those bombers.”  
“ _Copy that, Green Leader,_ ” Will called. “ _We’ll see you later._ ”

“You’d better,” Mike replied before he could stop himself. Will let out a soft laugh and the line cut, throwing the cockpit into a peculiar silence.

“Come on,” El said urgently, pulling off her headset. “We don’t know how long we’ll have to pull this off.” Mike and Max hurried after her, and Lucas and Dustin joined them outside, where they had to put their hands over their faces to protect themselves from the gale-force winds. El ran to the ray-shielded doors, held the hilt of her lightsaber to the control panel and ignited it. The ray shields blinked out of existence, and El beckoned them in.

“Dustin, try and pull up a map,” Mike hissed as they crept along the hallways. “Max, Lucas, hands on blasters.”

“Where are all the prisoners?” Max asked, glancing at the empty chambers they were passing.

“Probably on the upper levels,” Lucas replied. “Doesn’t make much sense to keep them so close to the main exit.”

“She makes a good point,” El says, her voice laced with concern as she took in the empty prison cells they were passing. “The Empire doesn’t leave its prisons empty if they can find reasons to incarcerate people.”

“Do you think this is a trap then?”

“How can it be a trap if they don’t know we’re coming?” Dustin asked. “Oh.” A deafening silence fell over the group.

“We have to leave,” El said softly. She met Mike’s gaze, and her dark brown eyes were filled with fear. “We have to leave, _now_.” Dustin, at the rear of the group, broke into a run back in the direction they came from, but a blast door slammed shut in front of him, almost crushing him.

“Shit!” he shouted, and El pushed through the group, plunging her lightsaber blade into the durasteel door, trying to carve an opening out of it. Behind them, stormtroopers flooded the hallway, and the others opened fire.

“El, hurry!” Mike shouted, barely dodging an Imperial blaster bolt and pressing himself up against the lip of the other doorway.

“I’m trying!” she said through gritted teeth, the circle in the door nearly complete.

Without warning, the stormtroopers stopped firing, and parted to allow a figure through whom they did not recognise.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” said the figure, casually stepping over a fallen trooper and facing them. The voice was low and a little raspy, and Mike took him in with some revulsion.

He was about Mike’s height, dressed in dull brown armour, with a mask covering much of his face, but his brown eyes glared menacingly at them. He carried a grubby, off-white pack on his back, and his dirty, caramel-coloured hair was messy and roughly cut. A string of teeth hung from his belt, and Mike absently hoped they didn’t belong to his victims.

“I’d rather not take you in dead,” he remarked. “You’re worth more alive, you see.” His suspicions confirmed, Mike’s heart sank at this pronouncement. The Empire was evil, certainly, but bounty hunters operated in a very different league of awful.

“Well, you’ll never take us alive,” he said loudly, and the bounty hunter laughed in his face.

“Don’t flatter yourself, buddy, I’m not taking you at all. The prison will deal with you. I’m here for that Jedi – she’s worth thousands to the Inquisitor, and therefore to me.”

“Why you?” El said defiantly. “This is an Imperial facility, why didn’t she come herself?”

“She reckoned you’d be able to sense her,” the bounty hunter shrugged. “She reckoned you wouldn’t be searching for me, so I’d stand a better chance.” He let out a hollow chuckle. “How right she was.”

“What about the rest, sir?” one stormtrooper asked.

“Capture or kill them, whatever your orders are. My jurisdiction ends with the Jedi.”

“We’ll see about that,” El said grimly, stepping in front of Mike and the others and igniting both blades of her lightsaber. Unfazed, the bounty hunter simply raised an arm and shot a single silver dart from a hidden compartment on his glove. El twisted her saber, but the dart weaved past its blades and hit her on the chest, glowing white as it pumped several hundred volts through her. El’s lightsaber shrank away, and she slumped to the floor, unconscious.

“You _bastard_!” Mike shouted, and fired a single shot into the control panel across the wall from Lucas. Another set of blast doors dropped to the floor, sealing them in and plunging them into darkness.

“Nice one, Mike,” Dustin snapped, as Lucas activated a flashlight on the side of his helmet.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Mike said, ignoring him. “I’ll carry El – Lucas, find her lightsaber, finish cutting through that door.”

“On it.” Lucas scanned the floor and seized the weapon, igniting one blade and illuminating the semi-dark chamber with pure blue light.

“Dustin, you still got that map?” He nodded and held up his holoscreen. “Good, find us a route out of her. Lucas, Max, you’ll have to cover us.” He stooped down, and with a grunt, hauled El onto his shoulder.

Lucas finished tracing the circle in the door El had started, and clipped her lightsaber to his belt. “Ready?” he asked, and with a nod from the others, Lucas activated his repulsor cannon, blasting the piece of the door down the hallway at full speed. To Mike’s delight, it knocked down a couple of stormtroopers unlucky enough to get in its way.

Chaos ensued. Crimson blaster-fire whizzed past their ears, and Mike couldn’t help noticing how much _harder_ it was without El fighting alongside them. And Will, come to think of it. Mike’s heartbeat pounded in his ears as he ran, El bouncing uncomfortably on his shoulder. Dustin shouted directions at irregular intervals, and eventually Mike began to feel the rush of the wind whipping through his hair, as they found themselves looking out into the dark, cloudy sky over the landing pad where they’d arrived.

Once they were safely onboard, Mike lowered El onto the floor, calling back to Max and Lucas to take care of her, while he and Dustin ran to the cockpit to get the _Ebony Hawk_ airborne.

“Time for a miracle,” he murmured, and Dustin let out an affirmative hum. After all, they might have taken off, but with no way to contact the other teams, there was no way of knowing if they were even going to make it out of the atmosphere, let alone out of the system. Only time would tell.

* * *

Will’s A-wing shuddered dangerously as he steered it away from the explosion of a TIE fighter he had just disintegrated.

“That was too close, Chester,” he murmured, rolling his eyes at the droid’s retort that it was, in fact, Will’s steering that was to blame. He glanced out of his port-side viewing window, watching the Y-wings circle around for another bombing run. “Gold Leader, how are we looking?”

“ _We just need one more run, Green Two – the defences are almost crippled._ ”

“Copy that. I believe in you, Gold Leader.” He twisted a dial to another frequency. “Green Group, let’s keep them covered – they’ve got to complete that run.”

“ _We’re with you, Green Two,_ ” called Heark, back one of the other pilots. They circled the remaining bombers, picking off stray TIEs that got too close for comfort, as the Y-wings dumped enough proton torpedoes onto the shipyard’s shield generators to char a small country.

“ _That’s done it!_ ” Gold Leader’s triumphant voice came through Will’s headset again, and his heart leaped. “ _The shields are down!_ ”

“Brilliant!” Will exclaimed. “Well done, Gold Group – get yourselves back to base, there’s nothing more you can do here.”

“ _Roger that. Good luck, rebels!_ ” The Y-wings twisted themselves around, before accelerating violently and vanishing into hyperspace.

“Green Group, let’s get that transport on that station,” Will called, and the troupe of A-wings surrounded Joyce’s team’s U-wing. Now close enough to transmit to it, Will turned his communications dial again. “Hey, mom? Can you hear me?”

“ _Just about,_ ” said Joyce, her voice a little muffled from a bad transmission. “ _What is it?_ ”

“I just wanted to say…” He hesitated. “Good luck in there. And be careful.”

“ _You too,_ ” she said, as the line went silent. He was briefly reminded of his vision in the Massassi temple, but he shook it out of his mind and pulled the throttle up, as Joyce’s ship glided smoothly into one of the shipyard’s hangars.

The emptiness of space suddenly felt very, very quiet. His mother was onboard the station, his boyfriend, his tutor and all his friends were both on the planet below, and Will… was alone, with his thoughts, his fears, and his droid. A few lines of text came through on Chester’s message screen, to the effect that he was sure everything would be fine. Surprised at this uncharacteristic display of reassurance, Will smiled bravely and occupied himself with taking out the endless swarms of Imperial starfighters.

One down… Two down… Three… Four… Will lost count as the minutes ticked past, shooting and steering purely on instinct, his focus somewhere else entirely. Acting on impulse, he kicked his ship into a starboard-side barrel roll, as an out-of-control TIE interceptor spiralled dangerously into the space he had just vacated, getting increasingly anxious at the lack of a confirmation report.

Nancy, as it turned out, was a proficient statistician with a reasonable knowledge of internal Imperial operations. During the mission briefing, she had estimated that with every five minutes that passed, their chances of the mission being a success – which were not astronomical anyway – decreased by ten percent. It had been nearly half an hour already since Joyce’s transport entered the hangar, and Will had heard nothing from the Rebel flagship, the _Harmony and Redemption_ , to confirm that the shipyard was disabled.

How long would they wait, Will wondered, before assuming the worst?

His headset suddenly crackled, and he heard the voice of one of the bridge technicians onboard the capital ship. “ _This is Harmony and Redemption – the shipyard is disabled; repeat, the shipyard is disabled! The blockade chain is broken!_ ”

Will breathed a sigh of relief as Admiral Marston called, “ _All craft, prepare to jump to hyperspace. Retreat!_ ” Almost immediately, the massive Mon Calamari cruiser vanished, and the remaining A-wings in Will’s company were quick to follow.

Will, however, was waiting for signs of both the _Ebony Hawk_ and Joyce’s U-wing, concerned that neither had yet reappeared. Chester urged him to leave, pointing out that they couldn’t wait forever, unless Will particularly wanted to be shot down or captured. Accepting this, Will started turning his ship around. “Prepare to jump, Ches.” Suddenly, every system powered down, and every control ceased to respond. “Chester?” he said tentatively. “What’s going on?”

 _We seem to be caught in a tractor beam,_ said Will’s message screen.

“Do we still have comms?” Will asked, starting to panic.

_Only just._

“Mike, Mike, can you hear me?” he said, twiddling control dials frantically.

“ _Will, is that you?_ ” Will’s heart leaped at the sound of his voice, but there was no time for small talk.

“Yes, Mike, it’s me – get out of here! You have to jump to hyperspace _now_!”

“ _Why, what’s going on?_ ”

“They’ve activated a tractor beam. I’m caught, but I’ll work something out. Go!” There was no reply – Will had lost the communications channel. He tugged off his headset and threw it down in frustration. There was nothing to do now but wait.

The little starfighter drifted gently into one of the shipyard’s numerous hangars, and Will looked out at the lines of white plastoid armour with some trepidation. And in the midst of all of them, a familiar figure in the Inquisitors’ signature black armour and robes. “Oh, brilliant,” he muttered, taking a moment to ensure that his lightsaber was secured to his belt.

“Come out, _Jedi!_ ” shouted the Tenth Sister as he touched down, and Will sighed. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

“Chester,” he said quietly, “shut everything down to zero and reboot it. If we can even power up, we might stand a chance of getting out of here.” Chester warbled an affirmative. “Wish me luck,” he said with a brave smile, pushing open the cockpit and climbing out.

The Tenth Sister let out a nasty laugh as his boots touched the floor. “Catch of the day,” she sneered. “That bounty hunter might have failed in getting the other Jedi, but one is good enough for me – for now, anyway.” She smirked. “At least I can tell Lord Vader I’ve made progress.” Will said nothing, but stared her down, but the Tenth Sister refused to be intimidated. “Bring in the prisoners!” she shouted behind her, and Will’s spirits sank as several stormtroopers frog-marched in a group of people in rebel clothing, with Joyce at the head of the group. Her head was held high, and she regarded the Tenth Sister with pure contempt.

“Mom,” Will breathed, his heart in his throat.

“I must say, I was impressed at your friends’ ability to disable this station,” the Tenth Sister went on. “Makes you wonder what they’d be capable of if they decided to actually put their skills to good cause.”

“They have,” Will snapped, but she paid him no attention.

“As for your _vision_ ,” she said, her dry voice practically musical with amusement, “did your master never teach you the difference between a dream and reality?”

“You..?” he said, baffled. “How did you know?”

“Idiot boy,” she snapped. “The influence of the dark side is more powerful than you know. Didn’t you think it was at all convenient that the Force showed you exactly where to come to find your _traitor_ of a brother? Your mission failed, by the way,” she went on, taunting him. “The prison is as secure as it ever was, and your brother is certainly not there.” Will let out a shuddering breath, distraught. “Bring me their leader,” she said, and a stormtrooper commander forced Joyce forward until she stood in front of her captor. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me where your new base is?” the Inquisitor asked, her tone bordering on friendly. “You might as well tell me, the Empire will find out soon enough anyway.”

“I will not give in to you,” Joyce said coldly. “Go to hell.”

“Poor choice of words, _rebel_ ,” the Sister replied softly. “Execute them,” she called to the commander.

“No!” Joyce gasped, and she and Will watched in horror as the stormtroopers lifted their blasters and fired on the terrified rebels, who cried out in pain and fear as they fell. “You _monster_ ,” Joyce spat, and only as the Tenth Sister turned to face him, did Will realise he was shaking.

“Your emotions betray you, Jedi,” she said, closing her eyes and smiling sadistically. “Your anger… your fear…. I can feel it all.” She let out a derisive laugh. “Your master couldn’t teach you to control it, could she?”

“Will, run,” Joyce urged him, but he couldn’t – not only was he frozen to the spot, but Chester wouldn’t have had enough time to reboot the systems yet, so he was stuck there. Instead, he forced his hands to hold themselves still, trying in vain to steady his breathing. The Inquisitor curled her hand into a fist, and Joyce rose into the air, her legs flailing wildly, clawing at her throat with her hands, although there was nothing holding her there. His hand went instinctively to his belt.

“Interesting. I wonder what would happen,” the Tenth Sister went on, starting to pace back and forth, “if you were tipped… over the edge.”

With these final words, she held up her lightsaber hilt in front of Joyce’s chest. Will watched in anguish as the blade shone crimson, searing through his mother’s heart and burning out her life force. Her eyes widened in shock, and rolled back in her head as she crumpled to the floor.

“No,” Will whispered, gripping his saber tightly. “ _No!_ ”

“There it is!” she announced grandly. “The spark of _fight_ I’ve been waiting to see! Come on, then,” she said, twirling her lightsaber and opening her arms wide in mock surrender. “Come and get me, _Jedi_.”

In the space of a moment, almost every lesson that El had taught him about combat passed through Will’s mind. _Jedi never attack. Fight only as a last resort. Let your enemy make the first move. Draw your energy from the Force, not your feelings._ And in that moment, Will made a decision – to ignore almost every single one. He was fighting to kill.

With an involuntary snarl, he sprinted forward, and the stormtroopers raised their blasters again. “Hold your fire – he’s mine!” the Tenth Sister shouted, and two red blades illuminated her features, swiftly raising the weapon to block the heavy strike that Will brought down on her head. He sliced and cut and swung, relishing in the duel. Thoughts of his mother drove every stroke, with the prospect of their failed mission powering every parry. Finally, she caught him in a blade-lock, and the Tenth Sister’s yellowed eyes shone with triumph.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Will said through gritted teeth.

“Do you feel it, Jedi?” she whispered. “The rage… fear… aggression… it’s the only path to true power. But it’s not exactly the Jedi way, is it?”

“If it brings down the Empire,” he shot back, “it’ll be worth it.”

“We’ll see,” she said, an amused glint in her eyes, burning with the red and green light of their locked sabers. “Perhaps we are not so different. I, however, have conquered my inner darkness. You, however, are weak and unbalanced. It’s why you’ll never defeat me.”

“You assume too much,” he said shortly. As her face twisted in confusion, he stepped aside and swung his emerald blade low, bisecting her left leg at the knee. She let out a howl of pain and listed to one side. Her eyes widened, and her lips formed the start of a plea for mercy, but he never heard it.

With one final, decisive swing, her head rolled across the floor, still in its helmet, an expression of mild surprise permanently fixed on her lifeless face. Will barely had time to enjoy the victory, as every stormtrooper in the hangar immediately began shooting at him. He blocked the bolts with ease, blasting a few of them off their feet with the strength of each deflection.

Still dodging the torrent of blaster-fire, he clambered up into the cockpit of his ship, hoping beyond hope that his plan had worked, and that Chester had been able to restore power. He pressed a few buttons to activate the deflector shields, and to his immense relief, the engines started to hum, and lights began to flicker.

“Okay, Ches,” he said, his voice steady with newfound determination. “The tractor beam is still active so we’re going to have to try something kind of stupid.”

 _What kind of stupid?_ was the droid’s apprehensive reply.

“Spin us around and prepare to jump to lightspeed.”

_From inside the hangar?_

“Yep.”

_That is stupid. I didn’t start the day wanting to end up as space dust, thank you very much._

Ignoring his quips, Will thrust the throttle forward, and the hangar vanished around him, with the familiar swirl of the hyperspace vortex replacing it. Will leaned back in his seat and covered his face with his hands, feeling a peculiar blend of relief and despair, alone once again in the empty silence of space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot summary:
> 
> For the mission, Joyce and her rebels seek to disable an Imperial shipyard station, while Will and his fighter squadron protect their ship. Meanwhile, Mike, El, Lucas, Dustin and Max head to the surface to break out Jonathan and the other prisoners.
> 
> They quickly realise they've been set up, and encounter a bounty hunter working with the Empire, who stuns and tries to capture El. Mike seals the bounty hunter behind a blast door and they narrowly escape the prison.
> 
> Joyce and her team successfully disable the shipyard long enough for Mike and the others to escape (minus the prisoners). In doing so, however, they are captured, and Will's A-wing is caught in a tractor beam under the orders of the Tenth Sister.
> 
> He decides to face her, while Chester reboots the starfighter systems, hoping to override the tractor beam. The Inquisitor orders the stormtroopers to kill the gathered rebels, and kills Joyce herself to try and tempt Will towards the dark side.
> 
> Will loses control, enraged, engaging the Tenth Sister in a duel. He overpowers her and kills her, giving into his rage. This done, he returns to his starfighter, jumping to hyperspace from the hangar to escape the tractor beam.


	4. X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebellion reels from its devastating failure at the Battle of Fondor, and Will makes a terrible mistake.

An eerie twilight hung in the air over the rebel base. Although the sun had long since set over the small moon, Yavin Prime – dominating the horizon – was still in daylight, and orange rays illuminated the Massassi temple better than any floodlights. Starfighters of different shapes and sizes were scattered around the landing pad – but there was one particular A-wing and a U-wing which were unaccounted for.

Mike sat alone, perched on one of the lower brick ledges of the Temple, anxiously scanning the sky above for signs of the missing ships returning to base.

“Come on, Will,” he whispered desperately. “Where are you?”

Nearby, someone cleared their throat, and he momentarily tore his eyes away from his search. Nancy offered him a weak smile, and he tilted his head to indicate that she could sit with him.

“I’m sorry the mission was a bust,” she said, a little awkwardly.

“You could say that.”

“I’ve just come from the infirmary,” she went on, more brightly. “They reckon El’s going to be okay.” Finally, some good news. “She suffered some mild burns from the electric shock, so they’ve put her in bacta for the night.”

“That doesn’t sound great,” Mike murmured.

“Not right now,” Nancy admitted. “But they reckon she’ll hardly even have any scarring.” Mike nodded to show he was listening, but couldn’t think of a reply. “I came out to bring you in,” she said quietly. “They want to close the hangar doors for the night.”

“They can’t,” Mike said in alarm. “Will’s not back, he wouldn’t be able to get in.”

“Well, someone would still be on duty, and Will would show up on the radar,” Nancy reasoned. “But… I don’t want to kill your hopes, Mike, but – ”

“Don’t say it,” he said sharply, and she bit her lip.

“Sorry.”

“He should have come back with the others,” Mike said in a small voice. “Why didn’t he? His squadron said he was alive when they left.”

“I don’t know,” she said gently. “Anything could have happened. Well, not _anything_ ,” she added hastily. “I just mean… we’ve no way of knowing what he did or where he went.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” Mike asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I heard it,” she sighed. “Look, Mike, I’m sorry. I am _trying_ to be supportive.” Silence fell for a moment. “Will you come in and try and get some rest? You’ll need it for debrief tomorrow.” He nodded, and Nancy stood up and brushed off her robes. “I have to return to Coruscant in the morning, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Oh, okay. Um, safe journey.”

“Thanks. I’d say, ‘keep me informed’, but perhaps not under the circumstances.”

He managed a weak smile and nodded. “See you when you get back.” She took a hesitant step forward, and he shuffled closer so she could hug him. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Mike went to bed, but he found that he just couldn’t drift off to sleep. A few days prior, he had finally been allocated a dormitory within the base, and although the bed was distinctly more comfortable than his bunk on the _Ebony Hawk_ , it felt cold and empty without Will there next to him.

He must have drifted off at some point, because his eyes suddenly flew open to the sound of an engine in the hangar outside. He leaped out of bed and hastily pulled on some loose pants and a shirt, before jogging out of the hallway into the hangar. Half a dozen technicians were indeed crowding around a rather battered-looking A-wing, but to Mike’s confusion, it was the only ship present.

He shook this observation from his mind as the cockpit hatch opened and Will climbed out, exhausted but alive. Mike ran to him, the hole in his chest flooding with happy relief as he pulled him close.

“Will,” he breathed. “Thank the Force.”

“Mike…” Will’s voice was weak and indistinct; as Mike released him from the hug, he examined his face and frowned, his thumbs tracking the tear streaks which coursed down Will’s cheeks.

“What happened?” Will couldn’t answer, and he buried his face into Mike’s shoulder. None the wiser, Mike turned to Chester, still in the astromech slot on the wing of Will’s starfighter. “What happened?” Mike repeated, and the droid, without a single whistle of impertinence, told Mike that the Empire had caught the team infiltrating the shipyard and executed them.

Mike’s legs nearly buckled under him in shock. The entirety of the team who had rescued them on Mykapo, and Joyce herself – gone, without anyone realising. Except Will, apparently. He held Will a little tighter; then, noticing that the technicians working on Will’s ship were glancing curiously at him, he guided Will away to his dormitory to avoid prying eyes.

He helped Will take off his poncho, boots, belt and flight suit, and led him over to the bed, and it was only then that he noticed that Will was starting to shiver. Mike’s first instinct was that he must be cold, but then he realised that Will was crying, his face muffled by the pillow.

“It’s alright,” Mike whispered. “It’s alright.” Another sob forced its way out of him, and Mike shuffled closer to him on the bed, wrapping an arm around him and rubbing his chest soothingly. Will’s whole body shook as he howled into the pillow, taking slow, shuddering breaths between each outburst of misery. “I’m here,” Mike murmured, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to the back of Will’s neck. At this gesture, Will rolled over so that he was facing Mike and, somehow, seemed to curl up even smaller.

“I…” he managed to stutter out, but Mike shushed him and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“You don’t need to explain,” he said softly. Will nodded, and he clenched his eyes shut as tears started to stream out of them again.

Unsure of what else to do, Mike held him close, and gradually Will’s breathing evened out. Mike checked him every so often, but after a few times, he realised Will must have simply cried himself to sleep. The thought twisted Mike’s heart, but in truth, this was probably for the best. Things wouldn’t be any better in the morning, but at least if he’d slept, Will would be better prepared to deal with it. _As will I_ , he reflected; nevertheless, it was a long time before Mike’s eyes started to droop shut again.

It seemed only moments later that his eyes flashed open again, to the sound of raised voices outside. Very carefully, he slipped out from under Will, who had clutched onto him at some point during the night, and vaulted over him off the bed, landing cat-footed on the dormitory floor. He crept out of the door, to find El and Max arguing a little way down the hall.

“I need to see him,” El was insisting firmly.

“He’s asleep,” Max hissed. “Doesn’t he deserve that? Besides, what could you _possibly_ say to him that will help?”

El scowled. “I’m his teacher, and he needs to learn how to deal with this.”

“Yeah, well,” Max shot back, folding her arms across her chest, “honestly, El? Will doesn’t need a teacher right now: he needs a friend.”

“Precisely,” Mike put in, nodding gratefully at Max. “Just leave him be for a while, will you?”

“The longer he has to dwell on it, the more dangerous it is for him,” El said, her frustration evident in her voice. “I have repeatedly overlooked your… liaisons, Mike, but – ”

“You’ve always said that the Jedi were wrong about not having attachments,” Max said crossly, and El raked her hands through her hair.

“To an _extent_! I don’t believe it’s wrong to love another, but surely even you can see that holding onto grief and dwelling on death isn’t healthy?”

“He’s not holding onto anything at the moment,” Mike snapped. “He’s _asleep_ , which _is_ healthy. Why can’t you leave him be?” El closed her eyes and composed herself, before turning on her heel and marching away with a shake of her head. “Thank you,” Mike said under his breath once she was out of earshot. “I don’t think I could have managed that on my own this morning.”

“No problem,” Max sighed. “Is… is it true, what everyone’s saying?” He looked blankly at her. “About Joyce and the others. That they were…?” He nodded gloomily, and a hand flew to her mouth. “I knew something bad happened, but I never thought…” She trailed off, aghast.

“I don’t know exactly what happened myself,” Mike admitted. “I only got a very simplified report from Chester.”

“I daresay we’ll find out soon enough,” Max said gloomily. “You look like shit, by the way.”

Mike cracked a smile and rubbed his eyes. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” She clapped him amicably on the back, before wandering off in the direction of the food hall.

It was only at this moment that Mike realised how hungry he was, as he had been far too preoccupied to eat the previous evening. With this and the mission to Fondor, it had probably been about a full rotation since he had last eaten anything, and he was ravenous. He longed to follow Max and find some food, but regrettably, there was someone else he had to report to first. For this meeting, though, he would need to be dressed.

He tiptoed back into the dormitory, relieved to see that his altercation with Max and El had not disturbed Will’s sleep. After a quick wash, he pulled on his officer uniform and boots, then made his way to Hopper’s office, where the general was frowning at a holoscreen report.

“Morning, sir,” Mike said, a trifle nervously.

“Commander,” Hopper grunted, gesturing for him to come in and sit down. “I’d like to hear your report on the Fondor prison raid.”

“What have you heard?” Mike asked tentatively.

“That it was a debacle.”

Mike grimaced. “Well… yes.”

“What went wrong?”

“What didn’t?” Mike sighed. “It was a trap from the beginning, laid by that Inquisitor. She hired a bounty hunter, and they’d moved the prisoners to a different facility before we arrived.”

Hopper stroked his moustache thoughtfully. “And the shipyard?”

“Joyce and her team disabled it successfully,” Mike said hesitantly. “But they were captured and…” He choked on the final word, and couldn’t continue. Hopper nodded gravely.

“I know.”

“We shouldn’t have gone,” Mike said, standing from his chair and starting to pace the room. “We should have known – ”

“That line of thinking doesn’t help us,” Hopper interrupted, firmly but not unkindly. “We can’t win everything, Mike.” The use of his first name jolted Mike back into reality and he looked over at Hopper.

“But to lose so many…” he said, his voice cracking. “I’ve never seen such a fleet of ships as on Fondor,” he went on. “And if they’re this powerful… how can we ever hope to win?”

Hopper hesitated before answering. “Because the galaxy needs us to win,” he replied. “You’re right, we might never win. But if we stop trying,” he went on, “we lose any chance we ever had.” Mike took a moment to process this, then nodded. “Take the day off,” Hopper said. “That goes for your whole crew. Take a couple, if you need to. Rest, recover – and come back to me when you’re ready to start again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, and saluted as he turned to leave.

* * *

Will’s eyes blinked slowly open, his head pounding, and wondering why the bed felt so cold. He reached for Mike, only to find that he wasn’t there. For some reason, this triggered a reaction within him, and he suddenly remembered what had happened the previous day.

Fresh tears formed in his eyes as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the stone ceiling of the dormitory. When he had climbed back into his starfighter, Will had hoped beyond desperation that he would wake up to find that he had dreamt the whole thing. However, he was now awake, and his mother was still dead. He hadn’t even been able to retrieve her body for burial.

His face twisted into a grim look of determination, and he sat up and wiped his eyes. He couldn’t bring her back – that much he’d accepted – but he refused to sit around wallowing in his grief when there was work to be done. After all, he had already taken down the last of the Inquisitors; imagine how much more he could achieve with a little more training.

He pulled on a linen shirt, pants and his combat boots, then tugged a charcoal-coloured poncho over his head. Finally, he strapped his belt around his waist – with two lightsabers clipped to it – then headed for the stairs to the training room. He counted each one of the 217 steps, feeling a thrill in his chest as he drew closer to the knowledge that would help him bring down the Empire.

Once there, he ran to the wall where the secret door had opened, closed his eyes and pressed a hand to the ancient bricks. They parted with a low rumble, and Will squinted at the flames on the altar as they came into view. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if the flames were brighter than the last time he had visited, before banishing this fanciful notion. Of course they weren’t. Why would they be?

He approached the stone table, pressing a hand to the scrolls laid there. He couldn’t read them, for they were written in a language he didn’t even recognise; he hoped, however, that they could impart their wisdom through the Force.

“Show me,” he whispered. “Show me how I can destroy the Empire.”

 _That depends,_ hissed a voice in his mind. _How much are you willing to lose?_

“Nothing more,” he said stubbornly. “I’ve lost enough already.”

_Are you scared to lose yourself?_

“Of course,” Will said. “I’m doing this to bring the Emperor down, not because I enjoy it.”

_Really?_

“Yes!” he exclaimed, but he was feeling less and less convinced.

_So you derived no pleasure from killing that Inquisitor?_

“That was different.”

_Why?_

Will found he had no answer to this; after all, he _had_ felt some satisfaction in watching her die, and avenging every innocent who had fallen by her hand.

 _You see_ , hissed the voice smugly.

“What do I have to do?” he asked in a low voice.

_Learn to channel your feelings._

As he heard these words, Will sensed another door opening to his left. He swallowed hard and entered, leaving the light of the altar behind him. Once again, the archway sealed behind him, leaving him in darkness. Although he could see without it, he ignited his saber, flooding the passageway with emerald light.

He followed the path a little way until he heard the familiar _clunk_ of metal under his boots – the floors used in most Imperial facilities. He saw a hangar, with a familiar A-wing, and felt a bizarre sense of _déjà-vu_. His blood ran cold as he realised where he was, as he saw himself, facing down the Tenth Sister on the other side of the hangar. His mother was struggling in mid-air, and in an instant, he had materialised directly in front of the scene, as the temple forced him to watch as the Inquisitor’s scarlet blade once again seared through his mother’s chest.

The rest of the illusion vanished, and only the Tenth Sister remained, and she turned her gleeful gaze on Will.

“Oh yes, it angers you, doesn’t it?” she taunted. “And you can’t kill me here.”

“I can try,” Will said grimly.

“Do your worst!” she shouted.

Will gripped his own lightsaber with one hand, and reached for the other with determination. He fleetingly remembered that he had promised El that he would get rid of the Tenth Sister’s former weapon, but in this moment, he was glad he had kept it.

He ignited it, and the two sides of his face shone with the light from a different blade. He twirled them around each other, then sprang towards her, the three plasma blades colliding with a series of hums and hisses as Will and the Inquisitor circled around each other.

Before too long, her lightsaber locked together with his own green one, and he seized his moment, plunging his scarlet blade into her abdomen. To his surprise, she simply laughed, and he stumbled forward as her image dissolved into atoms.

“I told you – you can’t kill me here,” she said smugly, as he spun around to face her again. Once again he launched himself at her, his two lightsaber blades whirling against hers increasingly cohesively. Two slices, followed by two swings, into a scissor-like cut, before crossing them to block her own attack. Using the two sabers like a pincer, he flicked her weapon out of her hands, before swinging them across each other in opposite directions, slicing her into three neat pieces.

Almost immediately, she materialised behind him again, and he had to block hastily, bending over backwards under the force of her sustained attack. He kicked her off him and jumped up, blowing his sweat-damp hair off his forehead as she advanced on him again. This time, though, she was approaching from both sides, having been joined by a duplicate of herself.

“What the…” he said, blocking swings from both of them, before leaping over one of their heads and attacking from behind, running her through. Instantaneously, two more had joined the fight, then a fourth, and a fifth. Worst of all, every so often, one of them would step away from the scuffle to run through yet another vision of Joyce, to further unbalance him.

Will was hot, tired, disoriented, and having to repeatedly watch his mother die had enraged him beyond belief. Finally, he deactivated his lightsabers, dropped to one knee and let out a strangled yell, unleashing every ounce of hurt, anger and grief he was feeling.

The Inquisitors vanished, and the floor shook, cracking the brickwork slightly. And Will looked up to see El staring at him in horrified disbelief.

“Will, what have you _done?_ ” she demanded.

“What I had to.”

El snorted. “What you _had_ to?”

“Face it, El!” he shouted. “Your methods _don’t work._ If they worked, the Jedi wouldn’t have fallen, and we’d have won the war already! But in case you hadn’t noticed, the galaxy’s been enslaved for nearly two decades.”

“I had noticed, actually,” she said icily. “And funnily enough, I want to put a stop to it too. But I thought you wanted to be a Jedi, not turn into an Inquisitor yourself!”

“I’m not turning into an Inquisitor!” he snapped.

“Really? Then why did you keep that lightsaber?” she shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at his left hand. “I told you to get rid of it. And what about this?” she added, curling her hand into a fist and twisting it savagely. The wall to the altar opened again, its crimson flames still dancing on the stone table.

“You knew about that?”

“Of course I knew! I wasn’t born yesterday; I figured you were up to something,” she said, pacing the room in frustration. “What I didn’t expect was to find that you were studying scrolls written in ancient _Sith!_ ”

“I’m doing this for the Rebellion!” Will snarled. “I’m actually trying to make a _difference!_ What have you done for it, apart from lead thirty rebels to their death yesterday?”

“A plan which, less than eighteen hours ago, you were fully onboard with,” she countered.

“I was _not_!” Will was properly shouting now, his face flushed and contorted with anger. “I was just following orders. And now my mother is _dead_ , because of your lousy mission!”

“So now you’re willing to kill everyone else to get to the Emperor?”

Will swore under his breath. “I never said I wanted to kill anyone else.”

“That’s what the dark side _is_ , Will,” she said coldly. “It’s acting entirely on your own will, rather than for the good of others.”

“I _am_ doing this for the good of others,” he spat. “It’s not my fault you’re just too much of a coward to do what has to be done.”

At these words, El’s lightsaber flew to her hand.

“I don’t like what you’re becoming,” she said quietly, and Will rolled his eyes.

“So what, you’re going to fight me just because of that?” he said accusingly. “How exactly are you better than an Inquisitor, then?” The air hummed as two sapphire plasma beams lit up, and El held her saberstaff in front of her. “Fine,” he sighed, and leapt towards her, igniting the red and green blades mid-air, and bringing them crashing down on either side of the hilt of El’s weapon.

She pushed him back forcefully, whirling the dual blades around her body to meet his own well-timed swings.

“This isn’t one of your visions,” she said through gritted teeth as their sabers carved scorch marks into the stone floor. “I won’t just reappear if you kill me.”

“Is that a promise?” he sneered, slashing a piece of cloth from the corner of her robes.

She sidestepped his next swing, pushing out and throwing him across the room. His lightsaber was jolted out of his hand from the impact of landing, and they both reached for it through the Force. It hung briefly in mid-air, as Will activated the second blade of the Tenth Sister’s old weapon and hurled it towards El. She deflected it away from herself, and Will used the momentary distraction to re-summon both lightsabers.

He sprinted back across the room towards her, their respective blades hissing and spitting as they circled each other. They had done this hundreds of times, of course – they had practised their lightsaber combat at least once a day for the best part of a year, and they knew each other’s moves almost as well as their own.

Of course, Will had a new advantage, as El had never duelled him with two lightsabers before, and Will had never fought so aggressively in his life. Even so, El’s superior training and additional years of experience left them fairly well-matched.

They were fighting so intently, neither noticed a single figure tiptoeing into the training hall, staying in the shadows, observing.

“Will,” El said pleadingly, “I understand why you’re doing this, but this isn’t the way.”

“I _tried_ your way,” Will growled. “I told you, it’s useless! What did we achieve yesterday, doing things your way?”

“It’s not just about what we achieve!” El’s voice was desperate at this point. “It’s about reaching the end of the day and asking if we’re proud of _who we are!_ Can you say that right now?”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Will said in disbelief, stepping back for a moment and baring his sabers in front of himself. “If I bring down the Empire, I _can_ be proud of myself. And you’re not going to stop me.” He kicked her firmly in the stomach, knocking her back, and pointed one blade at her heart and one at her head. She tried to reach for her lightsaber back, but Will pressed his boot to it. “You’re beaten,” he hissed. “And I’m _done_ learning from you.”

He raised one blade, and the figure in the shadows spoke. “Will?” He froze for a moment, then El and Will turned to see Mike, emerging into the light, looking absolutely distraught. “What’s going on?”

“I… I…” All of Will’s bluster vanished in a single moment, and his lightsabers shrank away. El hastily shuffled backwards away from him, summoning her own saber while Will’s attention was diverted and clipping it to her belt. She chose to say nothing, and let the situation speak for itself.

“What _was_ that?” Mike almost whispered. Will took a step towards him, and Mike took an instinctive step back.

“I can explain,” Will said hastily, but found that he could not.

“Don’t bother.” Will couldn’t help thinking that it would be easier if Mike got angry, but he didn’t. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t storm off, or hit Will. He just kept looking at him with that awful, wounded expression. “I… I have to go.” He took a few slow steps away, before hurrying away down the stone stairs.

Will stood, fixed to the spot, staring in horror at the Inquisitor’s lightsaber.

“What have I done?” he murmured, looking at El in dismay. She waved a hand, and the archway to the altar sealed itself.

“You made a choice,” she said stiffly. “The same choice all Jedi must make, each day. Are you proud of yourself now?”

He didn’t answer her, but ignited his lightsaber and sliced twice at the Inquisitor’s weapon, shattering the blood-red crystals in each end. This done, he turned towards the massive opening in the external wall and hurled his lightsaber through it with all his strength, watching as it disappeared among the trees outside.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“You were right,” he added. “I wasn’t ready.”

She sighed. “I take some responsibility.” She kicked feebly at a stone they had loosened in their duel. “I shouldn’t have let you think I didn’t trust you. I pushed you away, and you searched for a substitute. I forgive you,” she said finally. “But I think there’s an awful lot you need to forgive yourself for, too.”

He nodded numbly. “Probably.”

“For now, though?” she said earnestly, stepping in front of him, her dark eyes searching his. “Go and find Mike.”

Mike. Of course. He nodded again and called back a word of thanks as he sprinted down the stairs, two at a time.

Mike was halfway back to the _Ebony Hawk_ by the time Will caught up to him, and he looked at Will with such hurt that he wanted to cry.

“Mike, wait, I’m sorry – ”

“Oh, you’re _sorry?_ ” burst out Mike. “That doesn’t magically make everything better, Will! Shit, what if I hadn’t been there? What would have happened?”

“What’s going on?” Max asked, looking up from the repairs she was installing on the ship’s roof. Chester, holding wires for her, made two whistles that sounded suspiciously like _uh-oh_.

“You were about to kill her!” Mike went on incredulously, and Max and Chester looked at each other in alarm. Max tactfully slid off the roof and wandered inside.

“Mike, just listen,” Will implored, but Mike cut him off.

“No, you listen,” he said angrily, and Will wisely shut up. “When we first received your distress call, do you know what I thought? I thought, ‘there’s a _good_ man. A man with a _conscience._ ’” His breaths had become deep and erratic, and Will could tell he was going to great effort not to cry. “I fell in love with your _goodness_ , Will, but that… ” He let out a shaky laugh and pointed upwards. “…I don’t even know who that was, because it sure as hell wasn’t you.”

Will’s eyebrows had shot into his hair.

“You… love me?” Will said softly, and Mike’s brow furrowed.

“Of course I love you,” he snapped. “That’s why I’m _so_ angry at you right now.” He turned around and started to walk up the _Ebony Hawk_ ’s boarding ramp.

“Mike, wait,” he pleaded, and Mike stopped, but didn’t turn back.

“I need you to go,” he said quietly. “I can’t be around you right now.”

He said nothing more, but pressed a button on the wall and closed the ramp, cutting Will off completely.


	5. XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wracked with guilt over his temptation by the dark, Will resolves to make things right, and sets out to find Jonathan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been over a month? Life got complicated - I moved out of my parents' house (again) and my university course started up again, and I didn't have wifi until last week... Anyway, thank you all for your continued support of this story. We're drawing quickly towards its climax now..!

Will stood alone, the hangar walls still ringing with the sound of Mike’s outburst. A few unfamiliar pilots glanced his way, having presumably been eavesdropping, but they quickly scampered away when Will glanced in their direction. At a loss for what else to do, he started the long trek back up the steps to the training room, feeling numb.

How could he have screwed up this badly? Mike had been right: this _wasn’t_ him, nor did he want it to be. He had already lost his mother, and now, his boyfriend and his teacher resented him. His brain spitefully reminded him of his vision in the underbelly of the temple, and Will paused on the stairs and groaned, leaning his head against the wall.

The Force had warned him of this: that in allowing himself to be tempted by the darkness would lead to losing those whom he loved. He had not heeded this warning, and now he was paying the price for it. The only consolation was that he had not immersed himself so deeply in the dark that the damage was irreversible. He hoped, anyway.

When he reached the top, Will pulled off his poncho, boots and toolbelt, leaving him in just his loose linen shirt and pants. Feeling a little more free, he sat down on the stone floor, which was warming up as the afternoon sun rose higher into the sky. He allowed himself to enjoy the sun’s rays, focusing his mind on the living Force, away from the conflicted mess of emotion inside him.

For the Force was a constant in his life, and it had only been recently that Will had realised to what extent this was true. In the darkest points of his life under the Empire, he had somehow never lost hope. Amid skirmishes during which he should surely have died, he had not. When he had felt the most alone, there had always been a reassuring whisper of encouragement for him. It was almost as if the Force had led him to this exact moment for a specific reason.

 _Alone, never have you been,_ said an unfamiliar voice in Will’s head.

He was now convinced that his purpose was not, in fact, to kill the Emperor. That time had not yet come, and he sensed it was the destiny of another to do so. No, Will had his own objective, and that was to do what he had always done: to unite people.

He smiled as the Force nudged him to this conclusion: even in the Academy, it had been Will who had resolved the disputes of his fellow cadets, and had formed deeper connections than most cadets. Then, after joining the Rebellion, he had led the attempts to reunite his own family, and to restore Lucas’ trust in the Jedi.

Will opened his eyes again, suddenly aware of what he had to do. He had to find Jonathan – alone this time, without relying on visions, or voices, or dark trickery. Just him.

He turned around, and was not remotely surprised to see El, leaning against a pillar and smiling reassuringly at him, as though she’d had the same revelation. Which, he would later realise, she probably had.

“I have to go,” was all he said, and she nodded.

He grabbed his boots, belt and poncho and started to put them back on again; only as he stood up did Will notice that El was clutching a long metal cylinder. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then held out his lightsaber to him.

“Where did you get that?” he asked in astonishment; after all, he had thrown in deep into the forest only a couple of hours ago.

“I went and looked for it,” she replied. “I thought you might need it back at some point.”

“I don’t want it,” he said firmly. “It’s not good for me.”

She shook her head, and pushed the switch upwards; a brilliant beam of green plasma shone out of it, illuminating both their faces. “This crystal chose you, Will,” she said quietly. “I know you think you weren’t ready for it, and I know _I_ thought you weren’t ready for it, but…” She paused, seeming to gather her thoughts. “…the Force has a depth of understanding which we lack. It can grant us knowledge, certainly, but sometimes we miss the forest for the trees.” The blade shrank away at her command, and she held the hilt out to him. “If you felt ready, it would be a clear sign that you were not, and it is for this reason I denied you your own weapon for so long – for better or worse.”

“Exactly,” Will said, but El shook her head.

“You are a very different person from who you were a year ago, Will,” she said. “The Force moves differently in you now. Take it,” she urged him, “and go and find your brother.”

He took it, and was surprised to find that it felt lighter than it had when he’d first built it. “I won’t fail you this time,” he said, his heart heavy with newfound determination. Her dark eyes seemed to pierce his soul, searching for any sign of deceit, but she found none. Apparently content, she simply nodded, and turned away from him.

Will didn’t bother changing into his flight suit: he had an alarming sense that he did not have a lot of time. He took the stairs to the hangar two at a time, making a beeline for his A-wing. “Come on, Chester!” he called as he passed the _Ebony Hawk_ , feeling a momentary twinge that he was leaving without saying goodbye to Mike.

At his approach, the engineers stepped away from it in alarm, and the head engineer frowned as he vaulted up the wing and into the open cockpit.

“Uh, sergeant?” she ventured as he pulled on his helmet. “It’s not ready to go yet, you took a fair bit of damage on your last flight.”

“Are the engines running?” Will asked, and the head engineer nodded. “Is the hyperdrive operational?”

“Yes, but – ”

“Do I have fuel?”

“Yes, but I should warn you – ”

“Then I think I’m good to go,” Will said firmly. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m really pressed for time. _Chester!_ ” he hollered across the hangar, and the droid clanked over to the ship, whistling expletives at intervals. Will pressed a button to activate the electromagnet in the droid slot, and the moody little astromech slid neatly into position.

“Sergeant, I cannot in good conscience permit you – ” the head engineer insisted, but Will was already sealing the cockpit and firing up the thrusters. She shared an exasperated look with her colleague and muttered an order, which he hastily obeyed. Will, however, knew nothing of this, and quickly spun his craft around, slaloming out of the half-open hangar door and accelerating into the sky.

As the base shrank out of sight, Chester whistled into the intercom, asking where he should set their course.

“I’m not too sure,” Will admitted, pressing a button. “I’m following my instincts here.”

_Negative. There is no mechanism by which I can operate the Instincts protocol._

“Smartass,” Will muttered. “I’ll keep the navigation on manual; I need you to run a diagnostic and work out what that engineer was trying to tell me.” He ignored Chester’s subsequent remark to the effect that they could have acquired this information from the engineer, and focused on steering into one of the Yavin system’s hyperspace lanes, ready for the jump to lightspeed. He pushed the lever forward, and his ship vanished into the darkness.

* * *

Lucas groaned and flopped his head against the table in frustration, and Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose as Mike paced the floor of the _Ebony Hawk_ ’s common room.

“Mike, will you please just _sit down_?” Dustin said through gritted teeth. “You’re putting us all on edge.”

“I just can’t _believe_ him!” Mike said, his pitch unusually high with fury. “How could he – he was just – I just can’t – ” he spluttered, changing direction with every fragmented sentence.

“He let you down,” Lucas said quietly. “It’s natural for you to be angry.”

“I know,” he said, sinking into one of the chairs. “I know.”

Max caught Lucas’ eye and joined them at the table. “But this is war, Mike,” she said, speaking to him more gently than she usually did. “We all come into this knowing any moment could be our last. If something went wrong now, is that really the last conversation you’d want to have had with Will?”

This caught Mike’s attention in a way nothing had since he had stepped onboard the _Ebony Hawk_. “No,” he said gently. “No, of course not, I – ” He checked himself and shook his head. “I have to find him.” He stood up abruptly and looked at each of them in turn. “Do you know where he went?”

“No idea,” Max said, peering out through one of the portholes into the hangar bay. “But it looks like they’ve taken his fighter in for repairs.”

Mike stopped pacing so sharply his neck twinged. Rubbing it gingerly, he voiced his confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense, they’ve been working on it since he got back. Why would they have moved it now?”

“Maybe he left,” Lucas said, with only a trace of bitterness in his voice.

“He wouldn’t,” Mike replied adamantly, but he wasn’t so sure. He lifted his wrist-comm to his lips and called, “El, are you there?”

There was a brief pause, before her rather clipped reply. “ _I_ was _meditating. What is it?_ ”

“Where’s Will?”

“ _Absolutely no idea,_ ” she said, and the line went dead. Mike swore under his breath and slid down the ladder into the cargo hold. Once he was out in the hangar, he marched up to the repair crew who had been working on Will’s A-wing and folded his arms.

“Where is it?” he demanded.

“Excuse me?” replied the head engineer, with forced politeness.

“The A-wing you’ve been working on, where is it?”

“It just left,” she said pointedly, flipping a page of her clipboard and jotting something down. “With its assigned pilot.”

Mike’s stomach swooped: so he _did_ leave. “What – I mean, why?”

“He didn’t say,” said the head engineer, still looking at her notes. “But he was in such a hurry to leave that he didn’t give me a chance to tell him that his fuel line is still leaking and his weapon systems may as well be dewback dung.”

Mike took a moment to process this horrible piece of information. “He’s got no weapons?”

“That is correct.” There was no mistaking the irritable tone to her voice now.

“Well, where did he go?”

“He didn’t say that either,” she said, finally tucking her clipboard under her arm and looking at him. Mike ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, but she continued, “fortunately for him, I took the liberty of attaching a tracking device to his wing, so we’ll know roughly where to find him when he inevitably crashes.”

“You’re a miracle,” Mike said seriously, as she passed him a holoscreen with a trace of amusement in her gaze.

“And for goodness’ sake,” she said, “have the common sense to take a ship that will fit two of you.”

“I mean, obviously,” Mike said, the thought not having crossed his mind.

“General,” Mike gasped, bursting into Hopper’s office and bending double to catch his breath. “Permission to undertake a pre-emptive rescue mission?”

Hopper closed his eyes, and the corner of his mouth twitched momentarily upwards. “‘Pre-emptive’?”

“Will – that is, Sergeant Byers – isn’t in any danger yet, sir, but he will be before too long.”

“He’s not the only one.” Hopper steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his hands, a strained smile just visible under his moustache. “Commander, let me be candid. With your own preoccupations, it may have escaped your noticed that it has not been an easy few days for the Alliance. As if the Fondor debacle was not enough, we have recently discovered the existence of an Imperial superweapon powerful enough to obliterate this base – possibly even the entire moon – in a matter of seconds.”

Mike, who was by now pacing the room, paused to do a double-take. “What did you just say?”

“As a result of this news,” Hopper continued, as if Mike had not spoken, “the High Council has been debating whether it’s worth continuing to fight at all, or if we should abandon the Alliance’s objective altogether. The political situation of the Rebellion has never been more unstable. Yet amid all this chaos, you’re asking me to send one of my best officers on a solo rescue mission?”

“No, general,” Mike said, puzzled. “I’d never ask that. I was going to go.”

Hopper let out a snort that may have been a laugh. Mike looked hopefully at him, and he sighed, apparently ready to admit defeat.

As he opened his mouth, however, an alarm sounded, echoing through the various hangars and offices and corridors of the base. Across every loudspeaker, a male voice called, “ _Attention, all flight personnel – please report to your commanders immediately. We have been redirected to Scarif. Pilots, you will be briefed by your squadron leaders en route. May the Force be with you.”_

“There’s your answer,” Hopper said, pressing a handkerchief delicately to his brow. “To your ship, commander.”

Mike straightened to attention. “No, sir.”

Hopper looked at him in amazement. “I beg your pardon?”

“My crew can manage without me. I need to find Will.”

Hopper stood to his feet, his eyebrows knitted together. “Listen here, Wheeler – I’ve given you a lot of licence in the past. I’ve covered for a lot of your mistakes, but know this – if you abandon your post, you’re on your own. And I daresay you can say goodbye to your rank and privileges.”

“With all due respect, general,” Mike said, considering his next words very carefully, “bite me.” Hopper practically recoiled in shock. “I’ll be taking a U-wing, and I’ll join you on Scarif when I find Will. I promise.”

Dustin ran up to Mike as he entered the hangar, and offered him a nervous smile. “What’s the plan?”

“You guys are following orders,” Mike said, marching towards an unoccupied U-wing gunship. “Take the _Hawk_ and go to Scarif with the fleet.”

“Why, where are you going?”

“I’m going after Will. Once I’ve found him, we’ll meet you there.”

“And me,” piped up a voice; Mike turned to see El jogging towards them. “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Mike said firmly. “I’m going alone.”

El looked between him and the ship by which they stood, and raised an amused eyebrow. “U-wings need two pilots, Mike.”

Mike considered this for a moment. “Fair point.” El boarded with a brief roll of her eyes, and Mike turned back to Dustin. “You three can handle the _Hawk_ , right?”

“Sure,” Dustin said with a shrug. “You’d better come back though.”

Mike nodded, suddenly apprehensive. “You too – captain.” Dustin stiffened up and saluted, which Mike returned, then turned on his heel and marched away. With a sinking feeling in his chest, Mike stepped onboard the U-wing and closed the sliding door.

* * *

Not for the first time, it occurred to Will how quiet space was when there was no one to talk to. He quickly found that he missed the voices of his fellow pilots over the intercom, and while he could technically talk to Chester, the droid’s replies only showed up on a screen in his cockpit, so it wasn’t the same. On top of this, Chester’s reports were increasingly concerning.

“What do you mean, we have no weapons?”

 _No alternative translation exists_ , was the astromech’s snarky reply.

Will sighed, and pressed a few buttons in preparation for dropping out of hyperspace. “So if we end up over an Imperial planet, we’re screwed,” he mused.

_Affirmative. I’m also scanning the fuel systems. They may be compromised._

“What?” Will exclaimed. “That engineer said they were working!”

 _Negative_ , was Chester’s near-immediate reply. _She informed you that the craft had been refuelled._

With some trepidation, Will accepted that these were, in fact, two different things. “Why do I do this, Chester?” he asked quietly. “These last few weeks, I’ve just… not been thinking straight. Why have I been so impulsive lately?”

_Unclear. Is it possible you require maintenance?_

Will let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, something like that.” He lapsed into silence once again as he pulled a lever slowly towards himself. The hyperspace vortex faded out of sight, and Will blinked as a planet loomed in front of him, half-shrouded in darkness and covered in sinister orange clouds. “Chester, where are we?”

 _This is Tesharti Prime,_ the droid informed him.

“Is it in the Empire?”

_Negative. Power is contested by various crime groups._

“Well, this isn’t where I expected Jonathan to be,” Will murmured. “But at least the Empire’s not here. Besides, this is definitely where the Force is leading me, I can feel it.”

_I do not recommend docking here._

“Noted,” Will said, flicking a few switches. “Keep our power signature low – we don’t want them to know we’re here if they don’t have to.”

_I have completed my scan of the fuel systems._

“And?”

_A pipeline has developed a leak. A direct hit from any energy weapon could ignite the ship._

“That’s good to know,” he said wryly. “In that case… shut down all systems, except life support. Extend all flaps and drag fields. That should cloak us pretty well, and hopefully we won’t fall too fast.”

Aided by Chester, Will quickly powered down as much of the A-wing as he could, then then shuffled down in his seat to lower his chances of being spotted through the cockpit window by any scavenger droids. The fighter floated through the atmosphere, drifting slowly towards the mountain range they’d been flying over.

Less than a minute later, Will let out a yell of alarm as a huge beam of yellow plasma shot suddenly past them, with enough force to send them into a violent spin, and they began to pick up speed. Will glanced in all directions, trying to spot whatever laser cannon was shooting at them, but within seconds they were hurtling towards the planet’s surface, gathering speed as he fought desperately for control.

“Karabast!” he gasped. “Chester, power up!”

He was too dizzy to read the droid’s reply, but presently the control lights started to glow again, and Will hastily thrust the throttle forward. He threw the A-wing into a roll to avoid another colossal blast from the cannon, but a second blast caught him unawares, and the back end of the A-wing just about exploded. Ignoring Chester’s helpful observation that they had lost the stern of the ship, Will strapped himself to his cockpit seat.

“Chester, prepare to eject,” he said grimly.

The droid’s visual receptor swivelled to face him through the cockpit window; it occurred to Will that if the droid had a face, he would be wearing an expression of utter disbelief. As if to prove a point, Will popped the viewing window open, creating enough air resistance to tear the whole thing off, and it vanished behind them. He flicked the visor down over his eyes, and watched as the mountains loomed larger and larger.

“Now!” he shouted, yanking a lever under his seat. He shot into air, closely followed by Chester, and quickly activated his parachute. He jerked to a near-stop, and watched as his trusty starfighter plunged into the canyon below in a graceless arc, combusting upon impact in a plume of smoke and flames.

He steered the parachute carefully towards a flat, rocky outcrop overlooking the canyon, and shrugged it off with a grunt of exertion. He lifted his wrist-comm to his mouth and called, “This is Jet Six, calling anyone out there. Do you read me?” Chester broke the silence that followed with a low whistle. “Yes, I know it’s only short-range,” Will snapped, and exhaled sharply. “Sorry,” he muttered, “it’s just… I’ve screwed up again. Only this time, there doesn’t seem to be a way out.”

“You’re absolutely right,” said a voice from behind him. Will scrambled to his feet and pulled out his blaster, only to turn around and find himself staring at one. “Make any sudden moves,” said the figure stood in front of him, “and I will blast you off the edge of that cliff and take your droid for parts.”

His voice was low and slightly rough, and Will frowned. He couldn’t quite put his finger on where he had seen the figure before, but then it hit him: on a hologram recording from Lucas’ helmet.

“You’re that bounty hunter,” Will said, his voice shaking only slightly. “The one from Fondor.”

The bounty hunter narrowed his eyes. “I do not know you,” he said harshly.

“You tried to kill my friends,” he replied. “Four rebels, and a Jedi.”

“I see,” the bounty hunter said, an amused tone to his voice. “Then that makes you the other Jedi, does it not?” Will didn’t answer, and he let out a harsh laugh. “Show me your true weapon, Jedi.”

Sensing he had very little to lose, Will reached for his lightsaber, keeping his blaster pointed firmly at his opponent, and held it out, maintaining a tight grip on it. The bounty hunter’s mask hid much of his face, but Will sensed that he was smiling.

“Perfection,” he breathed. “Not as valuable as the dual-bladed one your friend wielded, but the going rate for one kyber crystal is enough to set me up for life.” He held out a gloved hand and twitched his fingers impatiently. “Hand it over.”

“No.” Will took an instinctive step back, and a piece of rock broke loose from the cliff and tumbled into the canyon.

“Hand it over, Jedi, or I’ll kill you and take it from you anyway.” His voice was perfectly calm, and this scared Will even more.

_Help me,_ he thought desperately, willing the Force to do something in his favour. Physically, nothing around him changed, but he felt something stir in his chest, and he blinked in surprise at the realisation the Force had given him.

Taking his cues from the warm energy flowing through him, he asked, “Do you know someone called Jonathan Byers?” The bounty hunter blinked in surprise, and took a menacing step forward. “Jonathan Byers,” Will repeated, growing in confidence. “A former stormtrooper from Mykapo. The Empire thinks he’s dead, but I know otherwise. I’m fairly certain he’s in this region of this planet. Do you know him?”

With his blaster still pointing resolutely at Will, the bounty hunter began to pace back and forth across the outcrop, apparently considering him. “Who are you?” he asked. To Will’s relief, the suspicion in his voice was accompanied by a definitive air of curiosity.

“My name is Will,” he said, and the bounty hunter lowered his blaster entirely.

“That’s not possible,” he whispered.

“So, do you know him?” Will asked with feigned casualness, reasonably sure he knew the answer.

By way of response, the bounty hunter put his blaster back into its holster. Then, with shaking hands, he reached behind his head and loosened his mask, and let it drop around his neck. Will’s face broke into a relieved smile as he looked into his brother’s face for the first time in over five years.

“Jonathan,” he breathed. He took a few steps forward, then hesitated. “What are you doing here?” he added, more sadly.

“We live in a harsh world,” Jonathan said quietly. “I’m not proud of the life I lead, Will, but I owe people.”

“Owe them what?”

“If the Empire decides they want you dead, you need more than luck to survive.” He stared gloomily up at the advancing clouds. “As I’m sure you know.”

“You can say that again.”

“The Empire thinks I’m dead, sure,” Jonathan went on, “but after I escaped, it didn’t take people long to figure out that I was on the run from the Empire. And obviously, they weren’t going to stay silent for free.”

“What did you promise them?”

“Think about it logically,” Jonathan sighed, sitting down on the edge of the outcrop and swinging his legs over the cliff. “I had to offer them more than the Empire would have paid them for turning me in. Most accepted a promise of money on pain of death, but I had to cough up that money somehow.”

“Well, bounty hunting does pay well,” Will said quietly, joining his brother at the cliffside. “Besides, I’m hardly in a position to judge your life choices. But the Alliance can protect you, Jonathan. They took me in, after all.”

Jonathan seemed to consider this. “Can you promise?”

“They can’t promise to keep you safe,” Will said reasonably, “but they can keep you hidden from whatever… gangsters you owe money to.”

“It’s not just gangsters,” Jonathan said loftily, and Will raised an eyebrow. “Alright, mostly,” he admitted, making Will chuckle. Silence passed between them for a moment, and Jonathan asked, “Was Mom alright? After I went underground?”

“She was,” Will said quietly. “For a while, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

So Will told him everything: how he and the others had returned to Mykapo to rescue her, and how she had run an underground resistance in the capital, who had aided them in their escape. He told him how she and her team had joined the Rebel Alliance, and recounted a few of their personal triumphs. Finally, he told him about the Battle of Fondor, and he was surprised to find that none of his previous bitterness or anger returned as he told Jonathan how it had ended.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan said heavily when Will had finished. “I should have been there for her.”

“It wasn’t exactly your fault,” Will replied incredulously. “You had to disappear, or the Empire would have come for all of us!”

“Yeah, I know.” Jonathan hurled a rock into the canyon and sighed. “But I can still be sorry.” They were quiet again for a moment, then Jonathan nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll come with you,” he said. “Join your Rebellion. Goodness knows I’m ready to get back at the Empire for what they’ve done to our family.”

“Awesome,” Will said, his eyes lighting up, but then he frowned. “There’s just one small problem.” Jonathan looked quizzically at him, and Will smiled wryly. “My ship is scattered in a four-mile radius from here.”

“Hm,” said Jonathan, taking this in. “And I only have a small landspeeder, so that could be an issue.”

Right on cue, Will’s wrist-comm released a string of static sound, and Will started in surprise. “I thought this was short-range?” he said, turning to Chester, who whistled an affirmative. He frowned at spoke into it. “Repeat.”

“ _Jet Six, come in – this is Jet One. Kindly transmit us your co-ordinates for pick-up._ ”

“Mike?” Will said in disbelief. “Is that you?”

“ _Affirmative. Please send us your exact co-ordinates._ ” Too baffled to speak, Will tapped the numbers into the communicator, and watched as a U-wing gunship descended through the burnt-orange clouds, throwing up dust and stones as it descended onto the cliffside.

The side door slid back, framing Mike in the opening, and Will felt his heavy heart lift at the relief on Mike’s face. He wanted to run to him, to tell him how sorry he was for messing up so badly, and for potentially ruining everything in exchange for the power he was promised. As he stared into Mike’s dark eyes, wide and searching, he realised something: all those times when this inevitable truth had gone unsaid suddenly no longer mattered. He wanted to tell Mike how much he loved him.

But Mike saved him the trouble, as he sprinted from the gunship and crashed into Will, nearly knocking him down with the force of his hug.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Mike whispered. “When the engineer told me about your ship, I was so worried – ”

Will could hardly hear him over the roar of the U-wing’s engines, but it didn’t matter. “Mike,” he said, lifting his chin onto Mike’s shoulder to talk into his ear. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Mike said, gently stroking the back of Will’s head and planting a kiss on his cheek. “It’s alright.”

He welcomed Mike’s warmth, and the strength of his embrace, and leaned up again to speak into Mike’s ear. “I love you too,” he whispered, and he felt Mike nod, and if it was possible, hold him even more tightly.

“Come on,” Mike said bracingly as he let Will go. Only then did he seem to notice Jonathan, and bared his blaster in recognition. “That’s..!” he gasped, but Will cut him off.

“He’s my brother,” he said gently. “He’s coming with us; I’ll explain on the ship.” Still eyeing Jonathan suspiciously, Mike nodded, and squeezed Will’s hand protectively as they stepped inside the gunship. “Where are we going, anyway?” Will asked. “Back to base?”

“Not yet,” Mike said grimly, sliding into the second pilot’s chair and pressing a few buttons. “The fleet’s amassing at Scarif. We’re joining them there.”

“Scarif?” Jonathan said slowly. “There’s nothing there but a research archive.”

“Exactly,” El said, nodding to Will and Jonathan by way of a greeting. “As it turns out, there’s something in that archive that the Rebellion needs. I sense this might be the beginning of the real war.”


	6. XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With everything at stake, Mike and Will join the rebel fleet over Scarif.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, what a journey! Gonna be honest, I never actually expected to finish this (I'm not well-known for completing long multi-chapter stories). But we did it! 
> 
> I hope you like the final chapter, and that you've enjoyed the ride! As always, let me know your thoughts, I love to hear them 😊

“I still can’t believe Mike made you _captain_ ,” Lucas grumbled as they roared through the ever-swirling vortex of the hyperspace lane.

“It’s only because he was there,” Max chimed in. “If either of us had been there, Mike would have promoted us instead.”

“Does Mike even have authority to promote people?” Lucas asked, and Max shrugged.

“Of course he does,” Dustin said indignantly. “You’re just jealous.”

“We know we’re jealous,” Lucas replied. “That’s the entire point of this conversation.”

Dustin smiled weakly, knowing full well that neither of them was really put out by Mike’s decision to promote him. In truth, they were all just looking for a way to fill the silence of the cockpit, and to avoid discussing the mission they were about to undertake.

Admiral Raddus’ briefing from their flagship, the _Profundity_ , had been clear and succinct: protect the team infiltrating the research tower; engage air and ground forces to distract them, and hold out until the technical readout for the Empire’s new battle-station was in the hands of the Rebellion.

As simple as Raddus had made it seem, everyone present – every pilot, every technician, every medic, every ground soldier, every tactician – knew that the risk that day was even greater than usual. The stakes were higher, the opposition greater, and the consequences of their failure too catastrophic to envisage.

“Do you think Mike’s found Will?” Max was saying as Dustin tuned back into the conversation.

“If not, he soon will,” Lucas said. “They’re tracking him pretty well, and… let’s just say Will tends to attract attention.” Dustin and Max both chuckled at this, as Dustin opened the cockpit door to listen to the ground troops packed into the cargo hold and common room, as many as would fit. “We’re pulling out of hyperspace,” Lucas called, and Dustin hastily returned to his chair. “In three, two, one…”

Dustin’s first thought was that under different circumstances, he’d have liked to visit Scarif. It was beautiful, with its brilliant turquoise oceans, smattered with islands of near-white sand and lush jade foliage. It saddened him momentarily to see it as it was: completely surrounded by an energy shield, and protected by one of the most formidable Imperial blockades he’d ever seen.

“That’s a lot of protection for a research station,” Max mused, gazing out at the multiple star destroyers and Imperial cruisers.

“Hardly surprising given what we’re about to do,” Lucas replied shortly, as a voice came through their intercom.

“ _Get to the surface before they close that gate._ ” Dustin and Lucas immediately increased their throttle, accelerating rapidly towards the relatively tiny gap in the planetary shield.

“Come on, come on, come on, come on,” Lucas was whispering through gritted teeth. Dozens of fighters were through, but Command was right – the gate was rapidly closing. With one final push, the _Ebony Hawk_ shot through the gap and entered the upper atmosphere. Max let out a whoop of excitement, and Dustin and Lucas shared a shaky smile before Dustin took charge.

“One of you, take the topside turret gun. The other will need to be in the hold to shut the ramp door once everyone’s off. Then, take the underside turret.”

“Got it,” said Max. “I’ll go topside.” With these words, she exited the cockpit and started up the ladder into the transparisteel dome on the top of the _Ebony Hawk_ ’s hull.

“Can you fly this by yourself?” Lucas asked doubtfully.

“Well enough,” said Dustin, more confidently than he felt. “It’s nothing complicated, just dodging starfighters.”

“And walkers, by the look of things,” Lucas added, pointing somewhere out of the viewing window. At least half a dozen armoured transports stood on standby near the base of the research tower.

“I’ll manage,” Dustin said firmly. “Head to the hold, I’ll bring us low.”

“Copy that,” Lucas replied. He still didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he dutifully went to the hold to let the ground troops out.

“May the Force be with them,” Dustin murmured as he heard them scatter onto the beach. It briefly crossed his mind whether or not he’d see any of them again, but he shook himself out of this thought process as he raised the ship back above the trees. Such thoughts were not constructive; all he had to do was keep them alive, and take out as many Imperial ships and troops as he could. “This is Captain Henderson to _Profundity_ , we are in position.” Absolute silence followed this broadcast; there wasn’t even any static. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he switched channels so he could talk to Lucas and Max. “Guys?” he said, his voice croaky with fear. “I think the shield is cutting off our comms.”

“ _What does that mean_?” Lucas asked.

Dustin swallowed the lump in his throat. “It means we’re on our own.”

Far above, the battle was already raging when a lone gunship dropped back into realspace. El had a hard time swerving through the swarm of red and green plasma flurrying between the two sides. From their perspective, it looked as though the Rebellion had the upper hand: clearly their surprise attack had been exactly that, and had caught the Empire completely unawares. The shield gate was by now firmly closed, but they could see through the viewing windows that a respectable number of Alliance craft had made it through.

“I wonder if the others are down there,” Will mused.

“Since they’re not responding on the communicator, I think we have to assume they are,” El said, flicking a couple of switches and pulling them hard into a barrel roll to dodge a cannon blast from their own flagship.

“Steady on!” Jonathan yelped from behind, clutching a leather strap hanging from the ceiling of the ship as the ship swayed and lurched.

“You’d think they’d be able to figure out a way of stopping our own blaster-fire from hitting us, wouldn’t you?” Will hissed, irritated.

“Never mind that now,” Mike said. “Can you operate the side-guns, please?” Will kissed the top of his head, before hurrying back to the rapid-fire cannons set into each side of the U-wing.

“Mike, we’ve picked up a tail,” El said urgently, twisting the throttle to swing them out of range of the stream of blaster-fire emitted from a TIE fighter behind them.

“Drop an ion mine,” Jonathan called.

“Really?”

“Just do it!” he urged, and Mike dutifully pressed a yellow button on his side panel, releasing a small mine from the stern of the gunship. It latched neatly to the underside of the TIE, before detonating an ion blast, crippling its systems.

“That’s not enough,” El protested, “we need to take it out!” She was wrong, though: with all of its systems neutralised, the fighter curved gracefully down towards the planet, shattering against the impenetrable energy shield. Jonathan shrugged modestly.

“I’m glad you were here,” Mike remarked sincerely. “I’d never have thought of that.”

“Impressive,” El muttered, as Will and Jonathan grinned at each other.

Dustin groaned with exertion as he pulled the _Ebony Hawk_ into a tight turn, allowing Lucas enough time to blast a platoon of stormtroopers directly below them. “Guys, walker at four o’clock!”

Sure enough, an AT-ACT was advancing slowly on a group of rebels, who were in no way equipped to deal with such a formidable opponent. He thought he had seen one man somewhere with a rocket launcher, but he had definitely been an exception.

“ _I got eyes,_ ” said Lucas.

“Let’s help them out, shall we?” Dustin called. “Max, cover the skies.” He blasted the forward cannons into its side (which was, admittedly, far easier with a co-pilot) as Lucas pelted its cockpit with red plasma.

“ _It’s not working!_ ” Lucas shouted over the intercom. “ _Its armour’s too strong!_ ”

“Okay, new plan!” Dustin replied, sending the ship into a dive towards the ground. “Max, you’re up!” Right on cue, Max fired directly into the underbelly of the walker, where its armour was weakest. With a satisfying explosion, the walker’s sides blasted outwards, and it collapsed, sending a small tidal wave crashing over several dozen stormtroopers. “Yes!” Dustin yelled, and he heard similar jubilant shouts from both turrets. “Nice shooting!”

However, only a few moments later, Max called, “ _Dustin, I’m counting more TIEs and fewer X-wings._ ”

“ _We can’t sustain this,_ ” Lucas added.

“Noted,” Dustin said. “I’ll take us down and we can join the ground teams. I hope you’re ready for a fight.”

“ _We’re with you, cap’n,_ ” Max said boldly, as she sent a final TIE striker crashing into the shallows.

Dustin descended quickly, and nestled the ship between some shrubs to minimise the chances of being spotted. After all, it was their only ticket off-world, and he had already seen several U-wings go up in smoke. They met in the cargo hold, and Dustin, usually overflowing with excitable chatter, suddenly found he had nothing to say.

“Good luck,” was the best he could think of, and Lucas chuckled.

“I think we’ll need a good deal more than that today.”

Max pulled them both into a tight group hug, and as they broke apart to lower the ramp, joked, “If you die out there, I’ll kill you.”

“Here goes,” Dustin said, his voice shaking only slightly. Lucas pulled on his helmet and flicked his scanner down in front of his eyeline, and Max pulled out her blaster and truncheon.

Blaster-fire whizzed past them as they jumped off the descending ramp, racing for cover behind some scattered cargo crates. Dustin lobbed a thermal detonator to clear out the first wave, buying them enough time to peer over the crates and assess their enemy. There were still stormtroopers advancing on them, but they were being shot down by rebel pathfinders hiding in the shrubbery, who had presumably seen the ship landing.

“For Jedha!” Dustin yelled, hurling another detonator as Lucas shot into the sky, bringing a hailstorm of blaster-fire and light explosives raining down onto the stormtroopers, adjusting his position by inches each time one of them shot at him. Max, meanwhile, had clearly spotted something, and was rummaging around in one of the cargo crates.

“Dustin,” she called, her voice slightly muffled from the crate. “Help me get this out.”

“Cover us!” Dustin shouted to Lucas, who saluted, before advancing a few yards and dropping a ring of proximity-activated shock grenades, to prevent anyone coming too close. “What is it?” he called, blasting an approaching stormtrooper as he dived behind her crate.

“An E-web,” Max gasped, still tugging on it. “But it’s seriously heavy.”

“All the better,” Dustin said, reaching in and pulling too, a spark of optimism rising in his chest. A heavy-duty blaster cannon like this would be a fantastic asset, and there was always a certain satisfaction in turning the Empire’s weapons against them.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to mount it on anything,” Max said with a grunt of exertion as they tugged it out onto the sand. “But if we can prop it up with something, it’ll be more manoeuvrable.” Crawling forward, Dustin pulled the dense durasteel lid of the crate towards them, then helped Max ease the gun on top of it.

“That should do it,” he said approvingly, as Max flipped a switch so that three red lights appeared on one side. “You know how to use that?”

She offered him a withering look and pulled the trigger, sending out a salvo of lethal shots and levelling a small squadron of stormtroopers from a hundred yards. “Yeah, I think so,” she replied casually. “But this thing overheats quickly, so we’ll need to cool it down manually if we’re to keep using it. Fetch some water from the ship, as much as you can.” Dustin dutifully sprinted back to the _Ebony Hawk_ , briefly wondering if the others were having any more luck.

As it turned out, the tide of the space battle had swung considerably in the Empire’s favour. The rebel starfighters were being overwhelmed by the seemingly unending waves of Imperial ships, and although the ground teams had successfully acquired the datatapes, they had just found out that the files could not be transmitted while the planetary shield was still in place. To that end, Admiral Raddus had ordered all craft to start firing on the shield, which – though essential – had left them very vulnerable to the Empire’s attacks.

“I’m not sure how much more of this we can take,” Mike said quietly to El at one point. “U-wings aren’t meant for one-to-one combat, and they certainly aren’t bombers.”

“I know,” she said desperately, “but we’ve _got_ to get that shield down.”

“Guys, look!” Will called suddenly from behind them. “That star destroyer’s lights have gone out!”

“They must have disabled their power systems,” El said without looking. “That’s good, but I don’t really see how that helps with the shield.”

Will was silent for a moment, then let out a whoop of triumph. “You sure about that?”

Curiously, Mike turned the ship ninety degrees so they could see what Will was looking at, and his jaw dropped slightly in amazement: a single rebel corvette was _pushing_ the inoperative star destroyer.

“Oh, that’s _genius_ ,” El murmured as, with no power of its own, the destroyer drifted helplessly towards a second one, the two ships ripping each other apart as they collided. Now both dead in the water, the planet’s gravity started pulling on them, drawing them towards the atmosphere. Their front ends shattered upon impact with the planetary shield, but the U-wing crew watched with bated breath as the sheer force of the two disintegrating ship overwhelmed the shield, and it vanished.

On the planet below, Max’s communicator beeped and came to life. “Dustin, we’re back on rebel comms again!” she called in shock. He glanced up, and grinned for the first time that day: two star destroyers were rapidly turning to space junk as they burned up in the atmosphere.

“The shield’s down,” he shouted. “The shield is down! Everyone back to the _Hawk_! RETREAT!”

The rebels, desperate to get off the planet, turned tail and fled back towards the ship, running between cover and dodging blaster fire. Lucas returned first and hovered above the _Ebony Hawk_ , picking off Imperial targets shooting at the retreating troops. Dustin stood at the side of the ramp, helping people on and returning fire. He felt a jolt in his heart for each rebel soldier he saw collapse into the sand, but there was nothing he could do for them: at this point, it was escape or die.

The troops kept coming, and Dustin looked anxiously to the sky. Burning star destroyers were good in principle, but it wouldn’t be long before one hundred megatons of flaming durasteel was raining down on them, which would be a very severe problem. Finally the waves of troops thinned, and Dustin slammed a hand on the ramp controls, barricading themselves in, out of range of the stormtroopers. They regrouped in the cockpit, where Max and Lucas were hastily readying the ship for takeoff.

“I can’t believe we made it,” Lucas said with a shaky laugh.

“We haven’t yet,” Dustin replied grimly. He was no Jedi, but he had a sinking feeling.

He had barely finished his sentence when a Mon Calamari technician from the _Profundity_ called over the intercom, “ _We’re detecting a massive object emerging from hyperspace!_ ”

As the thrusters roared and the _Ebony Hawk_ lifted into the air, Dustin peered up into the sky, and his eyes widened in dismay.

Meanwhile, the battle above the planet was intensifying. As fortunate as it was that the shield gate was down – surviving rebel ships were hastily emerging from the atmosphere – it meant that the previously thinning number of TIE fighters was increasing once again, as those which had been trapped inside were now free to reinforce their comrades. Will and Jonathan were desperately manning the U-wing’s side guns, but it was not really built for dogfighting, and they were becoming overwhelmed.

“What the hell is that?” Mike suddenly demanded, and such was the terror in his voice that Will abandoned his barrage to join Mike and El in the cockpit. What he saw chilled him to his core.

At first glance, it appeared to be little more than a small moon – except that it had irrefutably not been there twenty seconds prior. Not only that, but it was covered in lights, and there was an enormous satellite dish set into its northern hemisphere. It had to be a battle-station, but Will simply could not comprehend its sheer magnitude. It seemed to dominate the entire skyline, hanging ominously over the planet and dwarfing even the largest of the remaining star destroyers. Will wasn't sure what it was, but its arrival couldn't be a good sign - nor could the multiple Imperial shuttles evacuating the base.

“Oh, no,” Will murmured, feeling decidedly nauseous.

“What _is_ it?” Mike breathed.

“If intuition serves,” El said grimly, “that’s what destroyed Jedha City.” She swerved to avoid a lone Y-wing that was spiralling towards the planet’s surface, but suddenly the ship rocked as a stray laser from a star destroyer turret pelted the starboard side. “We can’t take many more hits like that,” El said abruptly, diverting her attention from the colossal battle-station dominating their eyeline. “We need to back out. I’m taking us to the _Profundity_.”

“Good call,” Jonathan piped up. “I’m nearly out of ammo over here.”

Mike and El were distracted by their controls, but Will leaned forward and pointed urgently out of the viewing window. “El, Mike – look!”

Around the circumference of the satellite dish set into the surface of the station, eight green lights had started to glow. Each one in turn released a narrow beam of green energy in quick succession; these met in the centre of the dish and formed a ball of light bright enough to force them all to squint. A singular beam of lethal power seared through the sky and ripped through the transmission tower’s communications dish, before meeting its mark in the ocean a mile from the tower. Nearly frozen in shock, Mike reached fearfully for Will, who silently took his hand in his own.

The battle around them seemed to stop, as every combatant, on both sides, gazed down at the planet in horrified awe. The sea seemed to part, the planet’s very mantle apparently flooding out of the point of impact in a massive mushroom cloud, sending a thirty-foot shockwave of white-hot energy and boiling water cascading gradually towards the base.

“May the Force be with them,” El whispered.

Mike tore his eyes away from the scene, forcing himself not to picture what was happening to the people still down there, rebel and Imperial alike. The U-wing came to a gentle halt, as they came to rest in the flight hangar of the _Profundity_ , shaken to their core.

As El powered down the engines, Will heard Dustin’s voice through his wrist-comm. “ _Jets One, Two, Six – are you there?_ ”

“Jet Four, we’re here,” Will said immediately, and he heard cheering through the speaker. “Are you alright?”

“ _Affirmative, we’re exiting the atmosphere. Where are you?_ ”

“Flagship hangar – hurry!”

“ _I don’t think we’ll get to the hangar, but we can attach to the docking port. Can you get there?_ ”

“Meet you there,” Will said, before beckoning to the others. “Come on, let’s go!”

They sprinted through the corridors, weaving through various flight technicians. As they ran, they heard Admiral Raddus’ voice echoing through the loudspeakers. “ _All ships – prepare for jump to hyperspace._ ”

The _Profundity_ , however, never got the chance. Seconds later, the starboard side was nearly melted under a torrent of Imperial gunfire, and its systems powered down. Across the ship, lights started to flicker out one by one. Will and the others skidded to a stop, not far from the air locks to the docking port. Through the viewing windows they could see the _Ebony Hawk_ tethered there, alongside a small corvette.

“They’ve stopped firing,” Jonathan murmured, white as a sheet.

“That’s good, surely?” Mike said, but Will shook his head.

“If they’re not trying to destroy us,” he said, reaching instinctively for Mike’s hand, “that means they’re preparing to board. They want those plans back.”

They jumped as they heard shouting from a nearby corridor, followed by the sound of blaster-fire and screams.

“They’re here,” El whispered. “Will… do you feel it?” Will was glad he hadn’t been the first to admit it, but he did: a darkness closing in on them, unlike any other he had ever experienced.

Without warning, a lone rebel soldier sprinted past them, clutching a data-disc. He stumbled on the threshold of a blast door, but scrambled to his feet and ran towards the air lock.

“Something’s coming,” Will said, his voice trembling.

“Mike, Jonathan, Chester,” El said urgently, “get back to the _Hawk_ and get ready for takeoff. We’ll meet you there.” Mike started to protest, but El cut him off. “Go, now!” She gripped her lightsaber and squared her feet, and Will copied her.

“Do you think – ?”

“I don’t know.”

A soldier cried out in pain and collapsed across the hallway, a bright orange burn mark scored into his torso, as a terrifying figure in a pitch-black mask and cloak rounded the corner, wielding a lightsaber with a blood-red blade.

“It’s _him_ ,” El gasped, and before Will had time to respond, he advanced on them without hesitation. Both of the young Jedi ignited their sabers and met his downward strike, pushing back at him with every ounce of strength they possessed.

As the three blades whirled and slashed, carving out chunks of the narrow corridor’s walls, it occurred to Will that the most peculiar part of the altercation was that he never spoke. During each encounter with the Tenth Sister, she had goaded and taunted him, attempting to distract him so that he would slip up. Here, though, the only sounds were the hum of the lightsaber blades, and their attacker’s sinister mechanical breathing, which made the duel all the more frightening.

Will knew that they were not fighting to win; indeed, there was no chance of that. Whoever this was, he was too strong, too well-trained, and utterly immersed in pure, unhindered rage. Will knew he himself was quite an accomplished duelist by now, yet he had not been able to deliver a single strike of his own. Escape, he realised, was their only chance of survival.

“Back,” El groaned, as she blocked another strike of devastating strength, and Will understood her plan immediately. They let him push them backwards, towards the threshold of the blast door behind them. The second they had crossed it, El ignited the second blade of her lightsaber and plunged it into the door’s control panel.

The door slammed shut, and Will could hardly believe his luck. “Run!” El shouted, and he didn’t hesitate. Behind them, he could hear the unmistakeable sound of a lightsaber cutting through metal, but he dared not look round.

As they reached the airlock, they noticed with immense relief that Princess Organa's ship, carrying the precious data, had already departed. They sprinted through the open door of the _Ebony Hawk_ and collapsed on the floor, exhausted.

“Mike, go!” Will yelled, and their little vessel immediately demagnetised from the rapidly disintegrating flagship. They dropped like a stone, before accelerating impossibly fast, away from the fury of the Empire and the devastation on the planet below. Within seconds, the familiar vortex of hyperspace enveloped them, and everyone onboard let out a shaky breath of sheer relief.

Almost numb with shock and fatigue, Will and El climbed the ladder to the cockpit, and were met with bone-crushing hugs from Mike, Jonathan and Max, as Dustin and Lucas kept the ship moving forward.

“You’re okay,” he heard Mike repeating under his breath, over and over. “You’re okay.”

* * *

After the adrenaline and the chaos of the day, the following few hours seemed to drag. Hopper had cried during the briefing, during which the Council elected not to demote Mike for disobeying orders. They also agreed unanimously to promote El and Will to commander, in recognition of their part in ensuring the escape of the Alderaanian corvette carrying the precious data-tapes. Indeed, commemorations were issued to every participant in the battle, with posthumous awards bestowed upon those who had fallen recovering the data.

El and Will, of course, had to recount their misadventure several times to multiple awe-inspired rebel troops. He was rounding off one particular retelling when Jonathan jogged up to the group and caught his attention. Will apologised to the young recruits he’d been talking with, and promised them he’d finish the story later, then fell in step alongside his brother.

“I wanted to tell you,” Jonathan said, plunging his hands into his pocket, “that your General Hopper heard my case and has allowed me to stay.”

“That’s fantastic!” Will said, delighted. “I knew he would. What will you do?”

“Oh, this and that, I think,” he said with a shrug. “Lots of the ships that made it back need serious repairs, so I imagine I’ll start there.” Will hummed in acknowledgement, and Jonathan continued. “Thank you for coming to find me,” he said. “That wasn’t the life I wanted. Truthfully, I can hardly believe I don’t have to go back to it.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Will replied. “I’m only sorry Mom didn’t get to see you again.” Hot tears burned the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away.

“Me too,” Jonathan said quietly. “But we honour what she fought for, don’t we?”

Will smiled bravely. “In everything we do.”

Despite the best efforts of the commanding officers, a spontaneous celebration broke out over the course of the evening. After all, a few of the more rowdy pilots pointed out, they had just scored a major victory against the Empire. The data-tapes were on their way to Alderaan, where they would then be escorted to the Rebellion by the planet's viceroy himself. It was worth celebrating, they reasoned, and the officers could find no reason to stop them.

As the day drew to a close, Will and Mike were finally able to escape the festivities. They crept out of the base, and sat down together at the base of one of the big trees at the edge of the temple.

Silence finally fell over them, and they drank it in appreciatively, simply enjoying each other’s company. The only sounds were the calls of the forest birds returning to their roosts, and distant echoes from inside the base.

“I think El was right, you know,” Will said eventually, leaning his head on Mike’s shoulder. “About this being just the start of the war.”

Mike hummed an affirmative. “I really think we might do it,” he said quietly. “After all, the plans are on their way back as we speak. And if that data is as useful as they say it is… this might be the time where we strike a solid blow to the Empire.” He shuffled an inch or two closer and clasped Will’s hand in his own, gently intertwining their fingers.

“Do you ever think about what life will be like afterwards?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Will shrugged. “I mean, I know it’s a long way off, but… once the Empire falls, and the Republic is reinstated. What do we do then?”

“Whatever we want, I suppose,” Mike mused, and Will smiled.

They were silent again for a moment, then Will said, “It’s a funny life we lead, isn’t it?”

“True enough,” Mike replied with a chuckle, looking down at their joined hands and pressing a gentle kiss to Will’s cheek. “Even so,” he went on, smiling as Will blushed slightly, “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The sun sank gradually over the horizon, sinking Yavin IV into darkness once again. A glimmer of light remained, however, over the small band of rebels gathered, celebrating, in the moon’s ancient temple. For the first time in nineteen years, a spark of hope had returned to the galaxy; one which would never again be extinguished.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading! If you want to follow me on Tumblr my URL is @tea-for-one-please, and I love to hear your thoughts!


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